


Just Your Touch

by Tea42



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sexual Assault, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy of Errors, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Baggage, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Magical Accidents, Memory Magic, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Male Hawke/Merrill, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Scent Kink, Self-Harm, Sexual Repression, Slice of Life, children and babies in peril, elves and humans have anatomical and physiological differences, it gets crowded and confusing in Anders' head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 107,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24924286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea42/pseuds/Tea42
Summary: Fenris accidentally phases into Anders in the heat of battle and it has unexpected side effects. These two do not communicate well with one another....thus drama. Mainly Anders/Fenris with a side portion of Hawke/Merrill. This was going to just be a short thing but it grew plot, backstory and a bit of kinkiness. I'm meandering my way to my plot points and throwing some of my fan theories in for good measure.
Relationships: Anders & Isabela (Dragon Age), Anders & Justice (Dragon Age), Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age), Hawke/Merrill, past Anders/Karl Thekla - Relationship
Comments: 237
Kudos: 223





	1. A Slip of the Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Is comedy angst a thing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of battle Fenris mistakes Anders for an opponent and phases into him as if to rip his heart out. It has an odd side effect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I had a funny idea and it grew plot. I have no beta so if you have any constructive feedback it is welcome.

Chapter 1: A Slip of the Hand

The Wounded Coast was trying to kill them. Again. Yet another group of bloodthirsty bandits had descended on them. It was a larger group this time and caused their party to be divided over the uneven terrain. Hawk and the Witch were fighting part way up a small hill, pinned on both sides of a footpath. The Witch used her magics to slow and confuse the enemies while Hawk seemed to disappear only to reappear in just the right place to slice the bandits most viciously. It was a strategy which had served them well in the past but with the numbers they were fighting and the Witch’s poor healing ability the fight was taking its toll.

Fenris was left with the Mage below. Though the elf did admit, at least in the confines of his own mind, that the fool mage was a decent companion in a fight. His healing was well timed and his penchant for ice magic created more stationary targets for Fenris’s great sword. They had fought beside one another often enough that they had developed

Unfortunately these bandits also included two mages. Fenris had very much enjoyed cleaving one of them in half at the start of the battle but the other was up on the cliff and had bombarded the area below with fire only a few moments before. Between the smoke in his eyes and nose he was disoriented and becoming a bit frantic. 

There was a movement close behind him and he reacted on instinct. As it was too close to swing his heavy blade effectively, he turned to the side and shot one gauntleted hand out to crush the heart of his presumptive attacker. It tingled in a familiar way but for once did not light up with excruciating pain. In fact Fenris was startled by the sudden absence of pain which was slowly spreading up his arm.

He did not have time to dwell on this strange mercy. Blue light erupted from the widened eyes of a familiar pale face. The Mage gasped sharply. Fasta vass! Fenris only just restrained himself from rematerializing his hand within the man’s chest. Carefully, in what seemed like an eternity in the heat of battle, he extracted his hand and ‘The Mage’ crumpled to his knees panting hard and biting back what was undoubtedly a moan of agony. Fenris was now thankful for the foul smelling smoke for the cover it gave them as he assessed the condition of the blonde.

The mage raised his head to look at the warrior. Even though the irritating Mage had been fighting along his side in battle it was still so satisfying to have one at his mercy. A part of him wanted to plunge his hand back until the man could no longer muffle his screams. Guilt gnawed in Fenris’s belly at these dark thoughts, at how twisted magic had made him.

The human’s eyes were wide but the uncanny cold glow had gone leaving them a warm brown even as he still gasped for air. There was something strange in his look, a vulnerability and shock but something was missing from how others looked when Fenris had ghosted into them. He did not seem afraid. He had just had Fenris’s hand ghosting in around his heart ready to pluck it from his chest, and the damnable Mage was not afraid.

It sparked anger in Fenris. He wanted to make the Mage afraid, and he hated himself for that desire.

“Mage. Get up.” Fenris hissed. The Mage just stared. A flash of reflection from a blade cut through the haze of smoke and Fenris swung to block. “Get up now!” He shouted over his shoulder. The new target for his ire had taken an ungly blow but two more opponents had appeared as well. Fenris cut through them like a Scythe. As he felt a warm spray of blood across his cheek he felt cleansed in a way. These ones clearly deserved his wrath. He fed that resentment even as he kept a calm vistage, allowing his conflicted feelings to fade.

Anders came out of his daze, frost shooting out towards new enemies, and maneuvered close to Fenris. Ice spears shot up from the ground in front of them, impaling their attacker. He seemed a bit shaky but managed to fight in their normal rhythm. Fenris smiled, impressed by the Mage’s stamina after what had undoubtedly been an excruciatingly painful experience. Though he could not normally stand the Abomination’s company, fighting alongside someone of comparable competence was one of the Warrior’s small pleasures in life. He had so few of those it was good he had not given into that earlier impulse.

***

“Maker’s hairy blue balls”, Anders cursed under his breath. Wait not blue balls, the Maker had just, not even an hour ago, fucked him over. Again. Definitely not blue balls. Anders sighed, “Shit”.

Anders walked with his gaze to the rocky ground as they left the site of the skirmish and stayed as far from Fenris as possible. Which meant he lagged behind the group as Fenris took the lead with Hawk and Merrill chatting and blatantly flirting in the middle. Whenever he caught sight of the elf he felt his cheeks burn. Anders had not felt this embarrassed since he was just on the cusp of manhood and woke a sweaty mess. He tried to keep his gait normal, but the cold stickiness has leaked from his smalls and partially dried on his inner thighs causing an uncomfortable chafing. He would have to claim the need to relieve himself and try to clean himself up as best he could. 

He was not exactly sure what had happened during the battle but having Fenris’s lyrium laced hand in his chest had sent the part of himself that was Justice into a euphoric daze. For the part of his being which was human it had been a feeling there were no mortal words for, just as the mere shadows of emotion present in the corpse of Kristoff had once been so foriegn to the fade spirit. It had not merely been pleasure of the flesh, that was at least something he had become very familiar with even if it had been far too long since he had engaged with another person. It was as if every part of him, body and spirit had lit up in pleasure which had blossomed from where Fenris’s hand nestled around his heart. 

Thank the maker his years in the tower had instilled it in him to remain silent during acts of intimacy. Still, the unexpected intensity of it had pulled a moan from him and he had only prayed Fenris had not heard it over the sounds of battle. It seemed Anders’ situation had not been noticed or the elf would more than likely attempt to finish ripping his heart out.

Even now that part of him which was fade spirit was as quiet and content as a cat sleeping in a beam of sunlight. The part of him that was ‘just’ Anders was left to deal with his body’s awkward reaction without the calming effect of his Spirit. He felt his emotions harder than he had in a long time, and they changed so rapidly! Oh, he did not miss this turmoil. It had gotten him into every trouble of his life so he fell into his typical safety tactic of trying to act as if he felt nothing of the sort. He worried about his chapped lips and tried not to look as suspect as he felt.

There was a change in the ambient sounds of the group which pulled Anders out of his bloody thoughts. Hawk and Merrill were now whispering to each other and glancing back towards him. Anders forced a grin. The couple glanced at each other and without a word slowed their pace to join him.

‘Andraste’s flaming knickers’, thought Anders as he quietly panicked.

“Anders! You’re being very quiet, are you well?” the Rogue asked in his booming voice with a wide smile.

“I’m fine Hawk, just a bit tired. The clinic was quite busy this week but I just can’t say no to a friend”, Anders replied with a sidelong wink.

The usually chatty Merrill was quiet, a look of concern on her face as her green eyes met his for a moment as they walked. The scrutiny distracted Anders enough that he lost his footing in some loose gravel. Hawk’s deft hand shot out to steady him.

“Easy there Anders. Don’t lose yourself in thought so far that you fall over your own feet”, Hawk chuckled. 

That snapped Merrill out of her contemplation and she turned to Hawk with a sweet smile, “Hawk ma vhenan, give us mages a moment will you?” she asked. 

For being such a stealthy Rogue Hawk wore his heart on his sleeve, guileless surprise evident on his face as he looked back and forth between the two mages, finally relaxing into a smile as Merrill caught his eyes with hers. 

“As you wish”, he said. “I will just go and see how Fenris is fairing”. 

As he trotted up to the warrior Merrill called out “Let’s stop at the shore before we make camp, we could all use a bit of cleaning, even in the brine”.

“Yes darling!,” Hawk called back to her with a smile in his voice. 

They walked a bit in silence while Hawk started chatting up Fenris. 

“Do you not have a change of smalls? You could borrow some from Hawk or make some from those torn trousers he collects but those are so dirty you’d need to wash them first so that’s not helpful at the moment. There’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s a perfectly natural thing. Although I’ve never heard of it happening during a fight. Is that a human thing?” Merrill rambled cheerfully and Anders stopped walking.

“Merrill...what...how...how did you know? Does everyone know?” Anders asked with a dawning sense of dread.

“Oh, oh no Anders. That’s why I sent Hawk ahead. You humans always remember Elven hearing is sharper but always seem to forget how sensitive our sense of smell is. Perhaps it is because our noses are not as different compared to human noses?” She responded.

“I did not know about the Elven sense of smell. Wait when were you able to smell...er...me?” Anders asked, his face a brilliant scarlet now.

“Well I noticed it just as we began waiting for you to catch up to us. The wind shifted a moment you see, “she said, “It sounds like there is a beach just a bit further ahead, you can clean up there. Well we all better” she added as she wiped blood off her brow with a scarf.

“Ah, yes. That would be good”, Anders said as he fiddled with strands of hair that had fallen from his leather cord during the fight.

‘Maker damn it, Fenris was far closer for far longer. He knows. I am so fucked’ Anders panicked in his own head. 

Merrill leaned in with curious wide eyes, “Just to be clear, is this a common human reaction to battle? I’ve noticed Hawk often flirts more after a fight and wonder if it might be something I should be aware of”. 

“No. No. Well, Hawk is a bit odd but no. This was just some sort of strange magic reaction.”, Anders said quickly.

“So it’s happened before? Did those mages use some sort of naughty spell? Oh tell me, I never get to learn about those”, Merrill asked eagerly as a kitten.

“Er, no. Never before and no naughty magics here” Anders answered and looked up to be sure Fenris was far away. The warrior and rogue were much further along since Anders and Merrill had paused in walking but they didn’t seem to notice. Anders could hear the excited voice Hawk used for recounting his exaggerated tales. He looked back to Merrill who had an expectant expression. 

“Ok, listen, you have to promise not to talk to anyone about this , I mean anyone. I don’t want Isabella making jokes about it. Someone, and I very much fear me, would end up dead.“ Anders said with as serious a tone as he could muster.

“Fenris sort of accidentally did his magic fisting thing..err phasing thing on me. I think all that lyrium reacted with Justice and somehow THIS was a side effect” he said in exasperation as he gestured vaguely towards his crotch then started walking again.

Merril tilted her head in thought “well I suppose that makes some sense with a fade spirit. Oh my I can only imagine how all of that lyrium would have felt as a mage”. 

Eager to change the subject he added in a conspiratorial tone, “You know, if you want to learn some ‘naughty magics’ there was quite a bit I picked up at Kinloch Hold. With so many naughty mages being so bored locked away in that tower they came up with all sorts of things over the years. I believe you’ve heard about one of the best, Isabella calls it the ‘electricity thing’. 

That did the trick. Merrill was happily asking questions and attempting to control a small charge in her hand. They continued as such for the short time needed to reach the shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters and places are property of bioware. I make no profit from this. Feed me in kudos and comments :)


	2. The Smell of Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris misinterprets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! This was up for a hot minute but I realized there were consistency errors for the next chapter.

Chapter 2: The Smell of Guilt

Fenris preferred the quiet, but Hawk’s company was always enjoyable. Still, as they discussed their prospective battle tactics, with humorous anecdotes from Hawke, Fenris could not help but think about the mage’s unusual silence. Once the fight had ended the blond kept as far a distance as possible and would not meet his gaze. It was unsettling, feeling guilty over any mage let alone the abomination.

The mage and the witch had hung back together as the group left the battle site. Even as they reached the shore to wash, the mages, free of metals which would rust in the salty water, went ahead to bathe as Fenris and Hawk divested down to their small cloths. Fenris examined his right arm. It was still oddly pain free all the way past his elbow. It was so strange. It felt light, as if it were not even a part of his body so he had to keep touching it to check it was there.

The salty a breeze was pleasant, clearing away the overpowering scent of the magefire from the battle. However, as Fenris approached the shore with Hawk another scent caught his attention. The sharp scent of human male sex. The elf stomped down quick on the memories that brought up, and tried to affect coldness.

A blood mage and an abomination, their mutual depravity made the match make some amount of sense. Mages. Fasta vass. 

Fenris did what he was best at, burying his reaction under a stony facade and observed.

The witch was closest. She still wore her small clothes, examining a seashell she had gathered. She seemed the picture of innocence, one could almost forget she dealt with demons. Indeed, Hawk was able to look past her being a blood mage. That man deserved so much better. There was a time Fenris had held the tenuous hope that he himself could have been enough for the rogue, but that flame had died long ago. Hawk only had eyes for Merrill.

Even so, he could not countenance a betrayal of his first and best friend. The possibility that the Witch and the Abomination would betray him by engaging in a dalliance behind his back infuriated Fenris.

Hawk, that giant soft hearted man, had stealthily approached Merrill from behind and surprised her with another shell he spied on the shore. 

“Oh Hawk, it’s lovely”, her delighted exclamation made Hawke smile broadly. Fenris slowed his pace by them as he walked toward the water and took the opportunity to sniff the air near Merrill as the two flirted obliviously. Nothing but blood, elf sweat and herbs. In this at least she was innocent. 

That left Anders. 

The healer sat alone a bit further along the beach behind a felled tree. He was sitting upwind and a sudden breeze carried that pungent odor of spent downwind. He was naked but curled forward as he scrubbed at himself with handfuls of wet sand. His long, pale limbs were lean for a human of his height but toned in a way that suggested daily labor. It was odd to Fenris that a mage would be so fit. The attractiveness seemed yet another trap and just made him more wary. Fenris’s eyes narrowed as he approached, the smell more noticeable as he drew closer to the bowed blond head. The smell of the guilty.

“Mage”, Fenris said lowly.

The blond looked up quickly. A glint of gold caught sunlight from a thin loop in his right ear. It had been an unusual request from the mage, a piece of jewelry from the loot found on the bandits. Hawked had remarked on it at the time. The healer had laughed softly and seemed to be lost in a memory when he said he thought it brought out the gold in his eyes. He wasn’t wrong. 

“Fenris!” the mage said, startled. His face turned scarlet and he hastily covered his manhood with his tattered shirt which had been soaking in the sea water. “A little privacy if you don’t mind” he added reproachfully even as he worried his lip nervously. 

The suspicious behavior was all the confirmation that Fenris needed that the Mage was guilty, he was not sure of exactly what, but that was a mere detail when it came to a mage. Perhaps the Abomination lusted after the Witch? That would hurt Hawke and Fenris had to admit even if he held no love for the Witch, the thought of an unscrupulous human mage lusting after an elf boiled his blood.

“I know what you did. I will be watching you.” Fenris growled. The mage’s eyes widened, hopefully Fenris had driven enough fear into him to ward off such behavior in the future. Please with that reaction, he turned and continued into the waves to swim the stench away.


	3. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawk and Merrill speculate. Anders can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost called the last chapter "Nobody Expects the Fenris Inquisition"
> 
> Thank you for the Kudos and kind comments, it's helps me write.

Chapter 3: Awake

Hawke let out a deep rumble of a moan, his entire body tensing from the overwhelming sensations coursing through his body. Then that tension left him and he collapsed by his lady love’s side, scooping her up in his arms in the process. Merrill smiled down at him, her bright green eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

“Maker Merrill, that was fantastic!”, he said as he cradled her face in his hand, his thumb traced along the vallaslin over her cheek bone and pulling her down for a languid kiss.

“You hair sticking out every which way" the elf laughed as she played with his beard. "I’m glad that worked so well, you were so loud though”. 

“You were not exactly silent yourself sweetheart”, Hawk grinned.

“I wonder if we could persuade Anders to show me some other ‘tricks’ like that ”, she added with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Hawke chuckled, “When we get home, remind me to send him a gift, a very big gift”.

“Oh that would be nice, maybe a new coat? The one he wears is half patches and seams. He’s always so busy he never really takes care of himself, does he? I think it must be having two beings in one body, it’s bound to be stretched thin ”, the elf said as she nestled into his shoulder ready to sleep.

“I was surprised he took that earring for himself today. He’s seemed a bit off since that last battle. You know I won’t pry but is there anything I should know? anything...justicy?”, Hawk questioned as he yawned.

“Oh, I don’t think anything dangerous. The poor dear did have a trying day though. I hope he gets some good sleep tonight after his watch”, she answered, not wanting to reveal anything which would embarrass Anders.

Hawk thought that Merrill, though sweet as could be, was perhaps not the best judge of what was dangerous. However, Hawke had enough wisdom to not voice this thought. Sleep was more important at the moment and he did not want to dredge up old arguments.

He simply replied, “Yes. Well, I hope we all get some sleep”, and proceeded to promptly drift off.

***

Anders did not sleep that night. 

Not one wink. Nope.

For once though, it was not due to the unrelenting call of Justice to write and rewrite ‘The Manifesto’. Nor from the amorous noises coming from the tent Hawke shared with Merrill. It seemed she had put his lesson to practical application rather quickly. Good for them, but did Hawke really have to be so loud. Andraste's knicker weasels, how was that man a rogue?

No, fear kept him awake for the first half of the night, wondering if the white haired murder elf would decide tonight was the night Anders must die. However, as minutes turned to hours the elf remained in slumber by the low burning embers of the fire. His face was cast in yellow glow and shadows, accentuating his brow. Until a few moments ago he had scowled even in sleep but now he was currently relaxed. It was pleasant to see and sort of sad that in the years Anders had known the man this was the first time he could ever remember seeing him so. 

Oh, the slumbering elf was strikingly handsome even if it had been dulled to Anders over time by his equally remarkable ugliness in conversation, at least when it came to the subject of mages. Anders had always been aware of his good looks in a vague sense as one might appreciate that a building was well made, but tonight he felt entranced by him. As the night wore on, instead of fearful glances, the mage found himself frequently casting appreciating gazes at the line of his jaw or full lips. It was unnerving in a completely different way.

Really, the whole world was brighter and more interesting. More real than it had been since merging with Justice. The feel of the wind on his face. The smell of the sea. It was as if he had just woken up from a long dream. The stars! Oh maker, he had not looked up at them in so long. He had loved them since he was a boy. He would sneak out of the house at night to look at them even knowing he would have to be up before dawn. Anders found himself distracted by all these little things in the intense way which used to drive the tower’s enchanters and templars alike mad when he was a youth.

A veil had been lifted between Anders and the world and everything had a depth to it that had been missing for so long he had forgotten how different it was. At the same time Justice felt distant, a part of him still but apart. Although he still felt his being merged with the spirit, it was as if they were less blended, more distinct individuals. Justice was still mostly dazed from this afternoon but Anders could get vague feelings of contentment from the fade Spirit. It seemed that as whatever had held Anders away from the world had faded there was now something of a partition between man and Spirit, at least for a time. 

The mage wondered how long this would last as he played with the hoop in the ear. The frivolity of it was not something he would have allowed himself yesterday. The simple pleasure of having it made him smile. If this was temporary he would just have to make the most of it. He would be happy, even if it was just for a little while.

***  
Anders had watched the dawn break across the coast in silent awe. The rest of the party slowly stirred awake with the combination of light and delicious aromas of the breakfast Anders was cooking. Anders himself felt like he could eat the entire pack of rations this morning. He did not dare to take even a morsel into his mouth lest his restraint fail.

Fenris had awoken first but of course only glared and gruffed before slinking off to begin some sort of training exercise in solitude. The elf induced anxiety which had been tying Anders stomach in knots abated with the familiarity of the morning routine, even the said grumpy elf. Anders had always been a morning person after all. The warrior had removed his cuirass for the exercises and was now stretching in a way that Anders could not look away. The healer told himself it was professional curiosity which was of course utter bullshit and got him burnt fingers for his distraction.

When Hawke and Merrill emerged from their tent they all gathered around the fire as Anders divided up the breakfast. 

Hawk stretched and yawned. His eyes didn't fully open until he took his first sip of tea. After that he looked over Merrill’s head at Anders and said, “Not that I don’t appreciate the extra sleep after yesterday, but you didn’t stay up all night did you?”

“I couldn’t sleep. It seemed pointless to deprive anyone else” the mage shrugged as he passed a plate to the other human.

“Oh Anders, you really should have at least tried after everything yesterday”, Merrill said with concern.

“It sounded like you two had plenty of energy reserves last night”, Anders responded with a wink and a cheeky grin as he handed her a plate. 

She giggled and scolded Hawk.

Fenris growled, eyes narrowed at Anders, and looking particularly deadly for so early in the morning.

“Erm. Fenris, I know we are all pleased it is Anders cooking but could you be a little more patient? Look, Anders is fixing yours now”, Hawk said. That seemed to nullify the elf somewhat.

Anders handed the plate over, heart pounding at the suddenly returned intense animosity from the warrior. The plate was snatched by the gauntleted hands without a word.

“This is so tasty Anders”, Merrill said cheerfully.

“That’s just because you’ve been exposed to Hawk’s ‘cooking’ too often”, Anders replied. 

“Hey now, the burnt bits are good for your digestion.” Hawk said. That got a laugh from everyone, well even a lessening of a frown from Fenris.

During the talk Anders had given himself the remainder of food. The smells had his mouth already watering since he had started cooking. The flavors of the first bite intensified his hunger and he shovelled more into his mouth not even bothering with utensils. All that mattered was more, more, he needed MORE. It was only when he was licking the last of the remnants from the plate, juices dripping down his chin that he became aware of the three sets of shocked eyes on him. He felt his face burn in embarrassment as he lowered to plate.

“Oh, um sorry. Wardens’ increased appetites are not just rumors.” he said with a nervous laugh while wiping his face with a cloth. 

“That’s fine Anders, don’t worry about it”, Hawke said reassuringly. “Here, you can have this, try to slow down though”. Suddenly another sausage was on his plate. Then another from Merrill. It made his heart warm. 

“Oh, and thank you for showing Merrill that electricity trick yesterday. Isabela was so right about it”, Hawk said.

“Hawk and I were hoping you would show me another one of those tricks”, Merrill added with a blush.

Fenris, who had been drinking his tea quietly, started choking on it, sputtering like an angry kettle. He looked confusedly between each of them before his face settled into a look of distaste, aimed at Anders of course.

“Please refrain from talking about such things in my presence”, he said to Hawke and got up to begin packing up camp. 

“Prude”, Hawke called over to him.

“Bhah”, was all the warrior replied as he briskly shook out his bed roll as if it had personally wronged him. The others soon followed suit in packing up, not wanting to tarry and risk running into more trouble on the coast today. 

The walk home was mostly uneventful. They reached the city by noon. Before they parted ways Hawke reminded them all to meet up at ‘The Hanged Man’ in the afternoon tomorrow for cards.

With his portion of coin from this latest adventure heavy in his coin purse, Anders headed to the lowtown markets to resupply the clinic. 

Lady Elegant had recently been resupplied with all of the standard herbs he had been looking for as well as some more hard to come by stock. He was particularly excited about the modest amount of Prophet's Laurel which he snagged immediately. It was good of her to keep some for him and with the professional discount she allotted him he would have plenty of coin remaining. He was just about to finish his purchase when his eye caught on the variety of cosmetics which garnered Lady Elegant so much regard both in Lowtown and Hightown alike. Ever of the shrewd eye, a necessity with rampant theft in Lowtown, Lady Elegant smiled.

“A little something for yourself healer? You do so much for the people of the city, I would extend you a further discount from our regular deal”, she said.

His hand grazed over a bottle of oil and a small tin of eye coal. Justice rumbled a bit about unnecessary and conserve but it seemed far away. Anders smiled to himself and snatched up the oil for his catch before he could change his mind. When the coin was handed over Lady Elegant pulled a small tin of eye coal from behind the counter..

“You’ve been coming here for years and this is the first time you’ve gotten anything for yourself. This is a gift from me old friend”, she said as she slipped it into his sack. “Call it a free sample”, she added.

“Thank you Lady”, Anders answered with a smile. It felt strange to feel such regard from her. Had she always treated him so? Perhaps he just noticed these things better today. 

Before returning to Darktown he stopped by one of the clothing stall and purchased a simple, but new and untattered set of clothes. He still had plenty of coin to save for the clinic, the underground, his belly, and a bit to spare for cards tomorrow besides. He hummed a cheerful tune on the lift ride down to Darktown. There was a small group of desperate but hopeful refugees outside the clinic so he immediately lit the lantern. 

Thank the Maker for Warden Stamina.

He got to work immediately. It was pleasing how even with Justice subdued this part of him found purpose and even joy in this work, exhausting though it was. There had been a small part of him that had wondered if he was really so good without Justice’s influence. It was a relief that he was a better man than he feared.

As he worked his mind wandered. He thought about his companions and the cards game tomorrow afternoon. Isabela will most likely tease him for the small change to his looks. He looked forward to that actually. A dangerous thought occurred to him; perhaps the elf might be persuaded to repeat that strange touch which had awoken him. He was curious as a cat about what it would take to charm him. The thought made his pulse raced with both fear and excitement. Anders did always have a bit of an unhealthy attraction to dangerous things...and dangerous people.


	4. Time Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is self reflection. This can get complicated when you share a mind with a Spirit of the Fade or if you're just Fenris. Angst Ahoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for anyone who read my last end chapter notes, I am a lier who lies. The story ended up being a bit longer before wicked grace night so I posted the 1st part as a separate chapter.
> 
> The good news: I have part of it he next part written already so not very long now

Chapter 4: Time Apart

After snuffing the lantern last night, Anders had all but collapsed onto his bed in the small, makeshift room in the back of the clinic. For the first time in many years he was not plagued by darkspawn dreams nor the restless call of Justice. He slept through the night and in the morning, his body was so unaccustomed to a proper night’s sleep he felt hungover. He stumbled out of the rickety door towards a small but clean work table near his meager larder. He poured himself a tankard of cool water from the barrel and guzzled it down. Then poured another and drank it halfway down and just stood a moment. 

He thought how strange it was that Fenris of all people could bring about this change. The elf absolutely hated him. He seemed murderous over the reaction of Anders' body but that was ridiculously unfair, even someone as hard headed as Fenris would see that and calm down- eventually. Well, he did seem to always rub most elves the wrong way. Merrill being the exception of course, anyone had to _really_ try in order to make her angry. No matter how much charm he tried, he was always too human for Velanna not to dislike. The rejection only made him try harder with her. Now he was hated by Fenris for the familiar reason of being a Mage, but he never really tried his charms on the dower warrior, had he? He smiled to himself at the possibilities.

Justice was more aware than yesterday but almost sleepy and reticent. He held himself apart and silent for now. Anders did not know what that meant and did not wish to dwell on it. He wanted to get the clinic running this morning before heading over to ‘The Hanged Man’.

Anders set the tankard on the table and opened up the larder, not sure what he had left in it before his recent trip to the coast. Lirene had given him a bowl of peas porridge last night. She had looked at him sternly but when he quickly started eating like it was going to disappear she smiled at him in a way that reminded him of his mother, the realization made him wondrously glad but at the same time touched on an old heartache which for all his healer’s arts would never truly leave him.

It appeared she had left him some food wrapped in cheesecloth. He smiled. He ate all of the crusty bread and salted ham. It was probably meant to last two meals or more but Anders found he could not so easily suppress his Warden appetite as he once had. 

Belly full and mind still surprisingly clear, he went to light the lantern. It was not long past dawn and there were already people wanting for his help. A couple of older women had been waiting and he saw to their minor chronic flare ups, but word got around when the Clinic was open and soon it was busy. Still, the people of Darktown were used to him closing early on this day of the week so it was easy to clear the clinic since there were no dire emergencies to attend.

The healer filled a tub of water, heating it with magic and climbed inside to wash away the sweat and filth of the morning. The soap was harsh. When he was rinsed and dry he remembered his purchases from yesterday. They were over on his herbalist bench with the herbs he had purchased. He opened the bottle of oil and smelled. It was lightly scented with the aromatic wood oils _Santalum_ and _Boswellia_ _1_. 

With a cracked hand mirror missing half its backing he lightly applied the oil to his hair and skin. It made his hair shine golden and soothed his skin giving it a glow. He tied his hair back and added a drop of oil to a bit of the kohl. He had to improvise a brush from his stationary but it did the job and his eyes seemed so bright, the gold in them brought out by his hair and the ring on his ear. He smiled into the hazy reflection. He could not recall the last time he really looked at himself. His face had a few more lines and a lot more angles from too many missed meals, but he liked the way he looked. Perhaps someone else might as well, and he thought of eyes green as moss in the sunlight, how they burned into him intensely. 

“ _It is a waste and a distraction_ ”, a calm voice rumbled from within his mind, still distant and shrouded. It was like thunder rolling from a nearby stormcloud while Anders stood dry in the sunlight.

“It is living. It is just living a little” the man said tightly. He looked around the clinic, it was so large when empty. It was quiet, lonely. So blasted lonely. Anger struck him like a bolt of lightning and he hurled an actual bolt across the room. “What does a Fade Spirit know of living? It’s not this! We only just survive here, not live, and whenever I try to enjoy anything or get close to anyone you pull us away”. Hawke’s easygoing smile flashed in his mind, but that possibility was long past. Just as quickly as the anger had come, it was gone leaving a familiar sorrow in its place. Anders slid down the wall, elbows on knee and face in his hands. 

“ _When I first was trapped here I saw a world ruled by order, static and unchanging. I liked it. I see now that you only keep your chaos hidden inside your heads._ ”, Justice said. 

And then Anders was the storm. 

Their harmonious voice echoed in the empty clinic, “ **_We are one in our feelings for our cause. Every mage we free and every unjust Templar struck down fills us wholly with joy. The Chantry must fall. The Circles must be broken._ ** _”_ It felt right, righteous, a true point of unity.

Yet it ebed and in their head Justice continued separately, _“It is the purpose you sought when we joined, when those Templars tried to kill us, what we are was forged in your fury. I have only kept our path in this clear_.” the Spirit added almost tentatively, ”you were courageous that day, do you... regret?” Even with sharing the mind of a living mortal, emotions were alien to his very nature. Anders could feel the Spirit struggling with the concept. 

Anders sighed, leaning up against the wall behind him.

“I don’t regret saving you, but you are taking my life from me. The price is high Justice. It’s too damn high and it doesn't have to be”, Ander said. Anders focused on specific memories, the common thread of feelings of them and pushed those feelings at Justice.

_Anders ran, he always ran._

_His secret was that it was just as much towards something as away. The first few times he had tried to escape Kinloch Hold he just wanted to see his mother again. Then as the years went by without any word from his parents he felt his abandonment set in fully. Then he ran to seek new people to care about, someone to love somewhere away from the punishments of the Templars. Anders would never abandon HIS child if he could have one. He failed of course, but each try had been exhilarating and Anders always learned from each attempt so that the next was longer._

_Then there had been Karl. Wooing Karl had held a delicious bit of risk in that Karl was older and an enchanter already. Karl himself was not dangerous in the least. He was gentle and kind and everything Anders could want. It was not perfect but it was good. He could never have everything he wanted in the Tower, but Karl was there and he was the only one Anders wanted. They could not have children of their own, but considering what happened to the children of Mage’s in Circles that was for the best. The students became their children. They were together and happy, until the blighted Chantry took Karl from him. Once again Anders ran, to find Karl, even towards the most infamous Circle in Thedas._

_When Anders planned, the Maker laughed._

_He ran and tripped into a life in the Wardens. He could be free with them, free to openly use magic and free with his affections. The second was harder after so long being clandestine in fear. The Joining has stolen any chance he had of being able to sire his own children, but there were so many orphans since the Blight, and Wardens could marry after all. He found brothers and sisters and the chance for more._

_He could not let Justice slowly rot away in Kristoff’s body. He would never run away from that, would not abandon a brother. No, not when he could help. He could not heal him but he could carry him. Really he just ran towards the same thing again._

_He ran._

_Anders alway ran towards_

“ **_Family_ **”, their voice echoed.

“ _Family_?” Justice’s voice was once again distant thunder in the back of Anders mind. 

“Forever”, Anders whispered and pushed the word and the memory feelings of warm embraces towards that part of his mind which was still separate..

_“I meant you no harm Anders. There is much I must consider”,_ Justice said in a somber tone. It felt like he pulled away, a darker cloud but quiet. 

“It is nice to be able to speak with you again, I’ve missed that”, Anders whispered with a small smile.

***

Fenris awoke late. He remained reclined on his bed, listening to the wind sighing through the holes in the ceiling. Conflicting thoughts of the Mage had left him distracted through the night. They broke his ability to concentrate on even the simple practice readings Hawke had given him after their last session. In the end he drank a bit too much wine yet again. His sleep was restless, leaving his undershirt and leggings sweat damp come morning. Dreams, when they came, had been fragmented. 

Brown eyes, warm and vulnerable, haunted his sleeping mind. He held a beating heart before those eyes but the dream transformed. The bodies of the fog warriors lay at his feet. Then he dreamt of the Mage sprawled naked with his long frame, pale and freckling in the dappled sunlight. Instead of a defensive posture it was inviting. He wore an amused smile which had never been directed at Fenris and those inexplicably guileless eyes drew him in.

Now with sunlight streaming through the dirty windows, he tried to let those dreams fade from his mind even as he found himself in contemplation over the problem of the Mage. 

He held his right hand above him, inspecting it as he flex and relaxed over and over. The familiar pains had slowly been returning down his arm through the night but he was still free of pain from wrist to fingertips. 

The man was an Abomination and so decidedly more dangerous than a typical mage. Fenris had known that for years. Yet he did not act like any abomination Fenris had heard of in Tevinter. He was a different type of abomination and that was dangerously unpredictable. 

He exhausted himself healing the poor. For all his sordid tales which delighted Isabela, he lived simply, even more humbly than a chantry brother like Sebastian. Most strangely, no matter how often they were at each other's throats because of the Mage’s ceaseless and obnoxious rantings, he had never physically turned on Fenris even in the heat of battle. Even if that was in difference to Hawke it would have been easy enough for the Mage to be just a _bit_ too late or off his aim with a spell. 

Which brought him to ‘the accident’.

It had felt satisfying, seeing the mage helpless by his hand as it felt good to see any mage in that position. Even now his pulse thrumbed when he thought of the vulnerability in those brown eyes.

It was the fact that he had almost lost control which disturbed him most. They had been fighting side by side. It was too close to other painful memories. It made him feel filthy, like he would never escape his past because he could never escape how it had twisted him. 

Then there was the bizarreness of having his hand around a beating heart and not seeing fear in the victim’s eyes. It was... irritating. Trust the Mage to drive both blood lust and guilt away by just being so annoying. 

Then his behavior after! It made him want to phase into the human again, just to see what it would take to see him tremble fearfully.

He pressed his thumb to each finger tip in succession, marveling in the lack of pain. This unexpected anodyne was it’s own temptation. If he slipped a hand just a bit into the Mage would it take the pain once again? Could it ever relieve all the pain? Was he willing to hurt someone so much, even a Mage, to achieve that end? That question’s weight tore at him because a small part of him was excited by the prospect.

What did that make him? 

Monster.

The monster they design him to be.

The thought gnarled in his belly and he could not remain still any longer. He leapt from the bed and grabbed his greatsword to perform his waking exercises. Thoughts ricocheted in his mind but the familiar routine soothed him. When his mind was finally calm sweat dripped down his brow and his muscles ached in a wonderfully mundane way.

He washed, and headed over to ‘The Hanged Man’ early. He needed to consult with Varric about and updates his contacts had about Danarius or those who served him. 

  
  


The ‘Hanged Man’ was crowded. It stank of the familiar sour ale, vomit, and the smell of desperation as always. The talkative man had lit a pipe and the sweet smelling smoke coiled around in the golden light. The constant movements of the patrons and overwhelming sound and aromas had Fenris on edge with his back to the corner. The afternoon was turning into evening and the companions present waited for everyone to gather for Wicked Grace. 

Across from him Varric was hunched over writing out one of his stories. The letters were meaningless to Fenris. Isabella, who had been seated beside him at the head of the table, was at the bar flirting mercilessly with a wicked looking woman, but Fenris knew Isabella could handle herself so he did not worry. Beside Varic Hawk was telling Fereldan tales to Merrill, who was gazing up at him in open adoration. 

“Oh, I don’t know Hawk, maybe the Witch said with that childlike smile which irritated Fenris all the more because it was so likable. It was a trap. These southern mages were all the more dangerous because they appeared not to be. Aveline had been the last to arrive owing to her work in the guard. She had just settled on the other end beside Sebastian with a pint of ale. That only left the Mage unaccounted for.

Fenris glowered over his cup of wine. Only the fingers on the wine glass remained without steady pain now.

The Mage was a Healer. Fenris had never seen him turn anyone who needed aid away, even to his own detriment. Perhaps he would be willing to aid in this?

“The wine’s not _that_ bad elf”, Varric grinned across the table, spectacles hanging on the end of his nose. 

“Perhaps, but it’s not that good either,” Fenris responded.

An excited shriek broke his thoughts. Isabella had abandoned the woman she had been eyeing at the bar and was now embracing someone at the entrance. A very tall, blond somebody. Oh, it was the Mage. He looked different, clean to start with. He had taken off his coat which was hardly surprising given the summer heat but his clothes, though simple, seemed new and did not hang off him as his well worn vestments. As the Mage was pulled over to the table by the exuberant pirate he could see the Mage still wore the earring he earned on Wounded Coast. The light glinted off it teasingly as he walked closer. His entire appearance was alarmingly sensual.

A disturbing thought occurred to the Warrior. Perhaps the Mage did have a Spirit, some sort of being other than a demon in him. Considering his actions on the beach and his current state, it might very well be transforming into a lust demon. Perhaps that explained the dreams.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Santalum and Boswellia = Sandalwood and Frankincense 
> 
> I borrowed a line from Awakenings in this chapter
> 
> This was only going to be 3 chapters but it just keeps growing...


	5. Wicked Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Wicked Grace night!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Comments and Kudos. They are appreciated a fuel the writing ^___^
> 
> ***I believe something in this would count as Dubcon***

Chapter 5: Wicked Grace

After dabbing up the little tear trails that ran along his nose and touching up the eye kohl, Anders made his way up out of Darktown and into the infinitely more cheery Lowtown. Really though, almost anywhere was infinitely more cheery than Darktown. He felt lighter just being in the sunlight with the fresh sea breeze making the loose strands of hair tickle against his face. The delay of his conversation with Justice meant he missed the worst heat of the summer sun but it was still punishingly hot so he had left his coat open, securing his belt with it’s assortment of pouches and small healer’s kit under it. 

As he approached the door to ‘The Hanged Man’ the sounds of ravelry within was welcoming. When he opened the door and stepped into the Tavern everything seemed shadowed in comparison to the daylight and white stones of the city. Before his eyes adjusted a familiar exclamation of excitement reached him just before he found himself with an armful of jubilant pirate. He could not remember the last time he was actually hugged like this. It was wonderful. He picked her up in happiness. 

“Well hello there handsome! I love this look on you Anders,” she ran fingers through his loose hair and tapped on the earring” Isabela said, “You even remembered how to kohl your eyes like I taught you.” Her own kohl-darkened eyes smiled up at him. “Come on let’s get some drinks and head over to the table. You are sitting with me tonight”. She linked their arms together and started to the bar. 

“Lead on Bela”, he said. He thought for a moment as they waited for the barman. He was in a tavern, a tavern with a group of friends to watch his back. Justice was still as secluded as he could be given they shared a body. 

“I’ll have what you’re having”, he said with a hopeful smile. The Justice cloud in his mind did no more than an incoherent grumble before returning to silence. 

“I’m having rum sweetheart”, Isabela said with a questioning tone. 

Anders just grinned ear to ear.

“Oh tonight is going to be fun! I’m going to make sure we both have a lot of fun.” she said with her painted lips quirked in a smile.

She grabbed a whole bottle and two glasses, pushing him along towards the back of the room.

Seeing his companions gathered around in such a relaxed place warmed his heart. Even the frowning face of Sebastian and Fenris’s brooding were pleasant in their familiarity. Dazed with the fluttery, friendly feelings of not being alone, he was too slow to avoid Isabela manhandling him into a seat at the very end. She obviously wanted to sit between Anders and Sebasitian, her favorite fellow to tease now that Hawke was off the market. That left Anders sitting in the corner, just one empty seat away from the elf who was seated at the head of the table backed up against the wall.

‘I want him to touch us again,’ Anders thought. The storm in the back of his mind rolled with thunder so soft it seemed like a purr. An agreeable purr.

Said elf was currently eyeing him as if he were a dragonling masquerading in a coat. ‘Must be Tuesday’, Anders mused to himself as he gazed around the table. 

“Anders, I’m glad you kept the earring. This is a nice change”, Hawke said thoughtfully while vaguely gesturing at Anders’ person. 

“I gotta say Blondie, you clean up nicely. It still conveys that moody rebel mage persona you’ve had going on so no worries there”, Varric grinned as he folded up his glasses and tucked his papers away. He started shuffling a pack of cards. Varric always dealt first. It was an unspoken rule of their Wicked Grace night. 

“I just felt like a change. Those old clothes were about to fall to pieces”, Anders said.

“Those poor souls in Darktown have enough they suffer without adding naked apostates to the list”, Sebastian laughed. 

“Indeed, I can only imagine the reports I’d get”, Aveline added with a wry grin.

“Careful that you don’t lose  _ that  _ shirt to the elf this week”, Varric grinned. 

“Gah, Don’t remind him. At this rate, I'll still be paying him back when I'm dead”. Anders said as he felt a blush rise in his cheeks.

“Well, I doubt many in Darktown or anywhere would mind that distraction”, Isabela winked as she slid him a drink. 

“A distraction, eh? I could do a little dance, Anders Spicy shimmy”, He downed the rum like he would have years ago, but it had been so long since he had liquor the burn made him wince. 

“Ah! That hits the spot!”, he said with a cough.

“Oh you could always pay Fenris back in trade”, Isabela said with a waggle of her eyebrows as she glanced at the cards she was dealt, “That electricity thing is very nice.”

“Not if he wishes to keep his hands”, the elf said. 

“Oh yes, it’s lovely isn’t it”, Merrill added dreamily. The table went silent, and then exploded.

“Anders, how could you?” Aveline said aghast.

“Mages”, Fenris said as if it were a curse unto itself.

“I’m gonna need details,” Varric said, reaching for his quill and paper with a glint in his eye.

“What!” Isabela gasped. “You've been holding out on me Anders”, she added affronted.

Sebastian was just reciting the chant...his deep voice affecting the angriest possible tone.

“I didn’t, that is I...Hawke help”, Anders fumble.

  
  


“Everyone calm down”, Hawke sighed wearily.

“I don’t understand. Why is everyone upset”, Merril asked while gazing up at Hawk with wide innocent eyes.

“They think you two had sex Merril”, Hawke said bluntly.

“Or you three”, Isabela added with a salacious grin. That earned a mixture of groans of disgust and laughs.

“Oh no, no. He just showed me the basics”, Merril said quickly, pointing her index fingers in front of her and letting the tiniest of charges flow between them. “The sex was just Hawke and me”, she grinned widely.

“Go on Daisy”, Varric said, putting his spectacles on. 

“NO! Just stop it everyone. Let me keep some things private”, Hawke said exasperated and blushing brightly.

“Yes, yes. No sex for Anders. Just me and the stars out there. That’s alright though. I always did like the stars” he said wistfully but continued in a melodic tone like that of a child's nursery song, “In the long hours of the night, when hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know Your Light remains”.

“Did the apostate just quote the chant?”, Sebastian asked with wide eyes.

“Don’t hold it against me”, Anders said with what he knew was a cheeky grin. 

Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, he decided to distract. He looked at the empty glass in his hand. And curled his hand around it. He then hovered the fingers of the other hand inside it for a few seconds. When he held it up again small cubes of ice were in the glass. 

“Another on the rocks, please!”, he placed the glass down hard in front of Isabela with a thump on the table.

“Oh, do mine too”, she said and he did.

“You’re acting very strange,” Aveline said, “are you feeling well Anders?”

“Actually, I’m feeling better than I’ve felt in years. Thanks”, he answered with a grin, sipping on his cold drink. He leaned back, fanning his cards in front of him to make a show of studying them. 

"Hey, Bela, do you remember that song they used to sing at the Pearl?" he asked and followed with a verse to which she join in. They were raucous, off key an it was wonderful.

"You're such a sap Anders", Isabela teased when they had finished. 

Everyone was bemused and seemed to go back to normal after that, chatting and laughing away the week’s stress while the cards were played. Everyone except the Elf who Anders could feel glowering at him silently. 

The games went on and at first Anders tried to ignore Fenris. He did not want to spoil his own good night. He felt energized by his lively group of friends. With added rum Isabela kept sharing with him he felt warm, relaxed, and playful. The unusualness of having a growing winnings pile added to his glee. Anders tried to bite his tongue, he really did, but to do so went against his nature. Justice or not, the only patience Anders ever had were the ones who came to his clinic. 

He wished he could at least find a way not to have the warrior angry at him for once, especially with how charged things were after his body’s embarrassing reaction. The faint hope he had held for charming the elf into ‘experimenting’ with his ghostly touch had died. The contrariness that inspired in him overrode any maker given good sense about teasing an elf who only yesterday loomed menacingly over him still splattered with the blood of those he had slaughtered.

It only got worse when a gorgeous woman who looked as likely to shiv as kiss draped herself over Isabela. The lusty pirate somehow got Anders to ‘shove over’ to make room for the woman. That put Anders at the end of the table right beside the moody elf with the murderous gaze. It was almost worth it to have a better view, not just for the flirtatious display the women made but also to watch the way it made the Chantry Brother squirm.

Still, even being directly beside Fenris, Anders felt so high spirited he could not resist mouthing off when the elf was acting so haughty. It was like trying to ignore the bites that time Sir Pounce A Lot got fleas. Getting the elf to give a reaction was just so fucking satisfying. 

After losing another hand to a mage the warrior hissed at Anders in Tevene, “Vishante kaffas”.

“I don’t know what brothels you’ve been to, but that’s just unsanitary. If you really want to see what's under these robes you’ll have to sweet talk me first”, Anders sassed.

That’s when it happened.

A gauntleted hand was suddenly gripping his thigh under the table. An electric sensation shot through him that has nothing to do with magic or whatever the void had happened in battle.

“Shut your mouth and play the game Mage,” Fenris said quietly to Anders, so close his breath tickled the wispy hairs around his ear. He felt gooseflesh cascade from the nap of his neck down his body. 

“I...”, Anders started but the words were stolen from his mind as four sharp gauntlet fingertips pressed in along the tendon of his inner thigh above his knee. It had been so long since anyone had touched him there and there was just the slightest bit of pain which sent his blood rushing to his loins.

He stared at his cards without really registering what they were. It seemed he had somehow succeeded in charming the elf without actually trying. It reminded Anders of those frantic groping sessions under the library tables in the tower. You have to be quiet and quick so the Templars wouldn’t catch on. Anders could be quiet, but Fenris was not being quick by any means. The elf’s fingers tranced along his inner hamstring like he was petting a cat, light but suddenly stopping to dig into the tender flesh. It was languid and maddening. 

Frustration made for a mouthy Mage, which made for an angry elf. 

“Why must you go on so? I don’t want to hear your ‘Mage rights’ and I believe I already told you to shut your mouth”, said Fenris with narrowed eyes.

“Why don't you make me”, Anders replied.

“That's when Fenris sank a finger tip into his thigh. The previously quiet Justice, whirled like a tornado. Anders was now painfully aroused in his small clothes. He felt his face burn furiously and closed his eyes because he knew they would be burning blue. ‘Andraste’s Knickerweasels’, he was glad everyone else was too distracted to notice. That finger traced back and forth as it had on the surface, would pull away for a second, then plunge back in. It was never quite enough though. Fenris was trying to kill him in a very unique way it seemed. 

He took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself before he said, “You know, I go on about Mage freedom because the Circle is the evil I know, intimately. I should make something very clear. Freedom for everyone is important to me and slavery is evil. When that bastard Magister or anyone working for him comes for you, my magic which you loath so much, will be yours”. 

The hand was suddenly, distressingly gone. Anders turned to look at Fenris.

The warrior would not meet his eye. He looked ashamed. He looked disgusted. It reminded him of something..oh.  _ Ohh _ . Anders' heart sank even as his arousal would not. He wrapped his coat tightly around himself despite the warmth of the room. The merriment of the gathering now felt distant.

“I fold”, he said, throwing his cards on the table quickly so as to hide that his hand was shaking, “Isabela, could I talk to you a moment. In private.”

The pirate looked over from laughing with a bit of confusion, then a dawn of concern which she quickly covered with a leer. 

“Of course sparkle fingers”, she said as she untangled from the woman she had been toying with. “Let’s head back to my room for a bit”. She threw a glance back at the woman who was looking annoyed, “Don’t worry, I’m worth the wait”.

The woman huffed and left the table. Isabela shrugged and strutted toward the back hallways. Anders followed, being sure to keep his coat closed. 

***

When they got back to her room Isabela closed the door, turned around, folded her arms across her chest, and waited expectantly. 

“I, ah, have a bit of a problem,” Anders started.

With a smirk she said, “you’re clutching that coat in a very particular way. Are you hoping for some help with that?” 

“Err, no. I-, just no. This is not a happy fun time situation here,” he said while intently studying the grain pattern in the floor boards at his feet. A spark of deceptive inspiration struck him and he added with as much seriousness as he could muster, “It’s a Warden thing”.

“Oh, from what I remember that just means insatiable, but we had plenty of fun trying”, said the pirate with a quizzical raise to her eyebrow. “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with the way Fenris was whispering to you and looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive?”

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about what that blasted elf wants and there’s lots of things that come with being a Warden, some very unpleasant Isabela. I really just need to take care of this fast. I hate to intrude but...please. Just let me take care of it myself here?” he pleaded.

She let out a sigh, “Alright, alright. I won’t pry. Go make yourself comfortable and clean up after. There are linens, scarves and things in the little table. I’ll just be over here freshening up.” She gestured him towards the bed, while she sat down in her sitting area at her small desk and examined herself in the mirror.

The room was smaller than Varric’s suit but there was still plenty of room for the semblance of privacy as she had set up a partition for her dressing and work area. The bed area was decorated lavishly with bold colors. The smell of incense lingered throughout the room. It was actually very cozy.

Anders took off his coat, fished a linen cloth from the table, and collapsed back on the bed. Undoing his trousers and pulling down his small cloths was a relief. He closed his eyes and tried to push the old, bad memories away. With how worked up he was it didn’t take long. After he caught his breath he started to clean up with a numb detachment. He could feel Justice stirring within, restless and at a loss for what to do for his friend. It felt like a gentle rainstorm in his mind. 

‘ _ I’m sorry Anders _ ’, the Spirit echoed in his head, ‘ _ I can not calm this for you now that we are reft like this. _ ’.

‘I’ll be fine my friend”, Anders pushed the thought to his friend. 

When he was finished and had fastened his clothes just right, he sat on the end of the bed, hunched, with elbows on knees.

“Oh sweetheart, you ruined your lovely makeup” Isabela said softly. She was not one to talk about emotions. Ever. Still, she pulled him gently to the sitting area, wiped his messy tears with a cool cloth, and only spoke to tell him what to do as she reapplied kohl. It was perfect. 

“There now, all fixed.” she said with a smile.

“Thank you”, he said and felt an honest to Maker grin on his face, small but real.

“I don’t do emotional crap, but you’ll tell me if there’s someone needing a shiving, right?, she asked.

“No need for that”, he chuckled.

“I’m going to head back out and try to get Briget out of those leather pants of hers. I made tea earlier, why don’t you have a cup before you join the games again?” she said slipping a key in his hand and adding “just lock up when you leave and return this”.

“Thanks Is”, he said as she watched her saunter through the door.

***

He had that cup of tea and was feeling good enough to return to the group. He was just pulling the key out of a pocket when a familiar growl startled him. He spun around to meet elf eyes with dark eyebrows low and angry.

‘He’s back to angry now. To the void with this elf!’, Anders thought.

“What do you want Fenris? Careful, I’m just itching to throw some lightning at a fool right now”, Anders bit out.

“Your depravity would fit in well in Tevinter.”, the elf said.

“Oh fuck you”, Anders said and rashly raised his hand, feeling the stings of a strong electric charge in it. It was snatched by the wrist and pinned above him while his back slammed against the door with a hand at his throat.

“Is that the best you can do? Quench the magic Abomination”, the warrior barked like he did in battle. Anders complied, and tried to shake the pins and needles in his hand away when the elf released it. 

“Alright, let’s just…” he started but gasped when he saw Fenris’s hand glowing eerie blue, “After what you...I just...Don't even think about it!”

It was too late. The hand sunk low into his belly and everything was ethereal blue. The inhuman and rapturous feelings cascaded through him, a glorious symphony throughout his being, even as he felt the more familiar carnal pleasure pulsing. His knees buckled but a strong arm held him firmly against the wall as another crescendo of pleasure crashed through him, an agonizing ecstasy. 

The hand withdrew and he felt like a rung bell, humming and hollow. He opened his eyes in a daze and found surprised elven eyes staring at him, such a pretty elfroot green. Fenris. There was no trace of anger in his face now. That was nice. When Anders collapsed, he found himself held in a surprising gentle embrace. 

“These were my first new pants since Fereldan” Anders lamented. He tasted blood. He had bit his lip, a reflex to keep silent from his youth of clandestine trysts. He nestled against the soft white locks tickling his face and felt himself being fully lifted off the ground and carried. He heard a click of a door being closed then locked. Then the disorientation of being deposited on a soft bed. Oh, that was nice. Everything was soft, warm, and spinning just a little bit. Justice was still humming within him to a song that was fading from Anders memory. A song not meant for mortal ears. 

He looked up, Fenris’s green eyes were so close and wide. He looked lost and sad. He was hunched over the bed, hands hovering uncertainly over Anders. The blonde plucked one hand out of the air. The elf jumped but did not pull away.. Anders turned it over to expose the man’s palm, and started petting it as if it were a cat. He had thick calluses from holding a sword and his life line was cut. Anders looked up with a smile, the agitated energy was gone but even Fenris's ears drooped despondently. How strange, Anders never remembered the stern elf letting his ears speak like the other elves he knew. That sadness needed to go. In his jumbled state the nicest thing Anders could think to say was, “Fenris, did you know you sing? You sing so beautifully.” 

At least the elf was now so confused he no longer looked distressed. Anders closed his eyes and fell into the fade. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed a lot of dialog bits here.
> 
> What song do Anders and Isabela sing? 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i2zpbcW-h-c
> 
> bardcore is fun!
> 
> If you have any suggestions or see errors let me know. I have no beta and am getting very little sleep these days so I'm finding all sorts of errors. There are some things I'm just not sure if I should have in this chapter and may edit or move around later. Anyways, the next chapter with be Fenris POV so you'll find out what the elf was thinking.


	6. Mistakes and a Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris POV thus angst

Chapter 6: Mistakes and a Mage  


Shadows played on the walls from the lamp on the dressing table and a rise of laughter pealed out from the main hall. The Mage snored lightly as he lay haphazardly on Isabela’s bed, his cheeks flushed. The spreading dampness visible on the front of his trousers, the pungent smell was overwhelming now. It was the evidence of how he had wronged the human.

His shoulders felt relaxed as if a great weight had been removed but he could not enjoy it with his heart’s new burden of guilt. 

Was this some hereto unknown ability from the blood magic which carved his markings? He had already been made a tool of murder but now this? How many more ways would magic find to twist him?

Fenris’s still pain laced legs longed to pace the small room but he was frozen in place by the Mage, not by ice magic of which the Mage had great skill, but by his slumbering grip as he cradled Fenris’s right hand, the guilty one.

The Mage had seemed drugged in the moments before he fell asleep. Fenris had been so unsure of what to do, afraid of touching the man and somehow making things worse. Then suddenly a surprisingly strong hand snatched his own from where it hovered over the human. Fenris could have easily broken the hold, but he felt if the Mage wished retribution, perhaps that bolt he had brandished earlier, it was deserved. He steeled himself for the pain but it never came. 

Instead the Mage had cradled it gently and turned his hand over to trace along the bare palm. Fenris had no memory of being touched like this. Every gentle touch from his past had been an act of dominion, akin to how one might reverently examine a favorite tool. It was never this attentive gentleness just for the sake of it. Fenris’s breath caught in surprise.

The Mage had smiled up at him so sincerely just before he passed out. The moment made something ache in the elf’s chest, it touched on one of the many basic experiences other people around him took for granted which he had been denied. With his other hand he wiped away the beginnings of tears before they could fall. 

He had been wrong about the Mage. Kaffas! He had been so wrong!

While he sat watching over the Mage he thought back on what had led him to this...

***

Everything had been calmly normal until the Mage had shown up for Wicked Grace. Anders was always handsome if typically unkempt. Fenris recognized that from the moment he met the human, but Anders had been especially beautiful when he walked into ‘The Hanged Man’ that night. His gilded hair was just a bit too wild to stay tied back and warm honey eyes were made intensely bright by the dark lining. His face even seemed to glow, but perhaps it was the smile he suddenly wore so casually and continuously. His attire was simple, not his usual ragged ensemble, but still covered with that disaster of a coat. 

Those eyes which had haunted his dreams seemed to hold only mischief now. Fenris found himself wanting to smile back at that bright face and even wondering how soft those blond locks were as the copper tones in them were brought out by a shaft of late afternoon sunlight from the window. What would the Mage do if he pushed that errant lock behind his ear?

Fenris did neither.

Beauty made Fenris uneasy in a myriad of ways. Fenris had learned long ago that beauty was not to be trusted. Magisters would pamper and preen themselves in flawless good looks, but it was all a facade. Underneath it they were craven, loathsome things. Often the means they used to achieve their ‘beauty’ was the blood of slaves.

What was more striking than the Mage’s appearance was his behavior. His mannerisms were subtly different and that set the cold part of Fenris’s mind which was always looking for the next slaver ambush on high alert. The others noticed the difference but did not seem concerned, even welcomed it, especially Isabela. Perhaps Fenris’s reaction was not fair, if it had been anyone else Fenris would have found the animated behavior charming. Unfortunately the matter of survival did not often involve fairness in the ex-slave’s experience. 

So Fenris observed. Quiet observation had served him well during his enslavement and had been instrumental in his continued freedom when being harried by hunters. 

He was relieved to have it confirmed by the Witch and Hawk that nothing untoward had occurred between the mages. It occurred to the warrior that a nearly animalistic sexuality, particularly after violence, might be a commonality among the Southern humans. He remembered how often both the human rogues Hawk and Isabela, separately, indulged in their carnal urges after battle. Even the pious Sebastian spoke with embarrassment of his wild youth before he joined the Chantry. 

In Tevinter sex was socially regulated to the extreme in order to produce more powerful progeny. The outward social constraint did not follow behind closed doors, where sexual revels were common and more taboo appetites were sated by slaves. Fenris fought daily against dwelling on those memories. 

These Southerners did not have nearly as many taboos or restraints. Fenris still felt a thrill of surprise when he witnessed public expressions of affection or sexual overtures between couples of the same sex, such as the one Isabela displayed that evening with the surly sell-sword. It would be a scandal in Tevinter. 

Perhaps what he had stumbled upon with the Mage was merely a more naturally expressed human sexuality than he was accustomed to. Fenris could not fault even the Mage for a natural response of the body. 

With that conclusion reached he felt more at ease around the Mage, even when the man was shoved over to sit directly beside him by Isabela as she attempted to seduce an unfamiliar sell-sword. 

There were so many layers to freedom here. Fenris had only recently considered what that freedom might mean to him in a sexual context. The first flirtation with the idea when he had met Hawk. He had even considered the concept of romance at the time. That ship had sailed as Isabela would say. Since then he had tried not to dwell on the subject of sex as it was entangled with memories he preferred to not think on. 

He was not even sure where his preferences would lie. Hawke’s strong arms and laugh, Isabela displaying her curves while gleefully telling lusty tales. Both had stirred different things in him, to a point. Now he was distressed to find the Mage’s soft smile was doing the same. 

This at least, was not a fault of the irksome human. Fenris just tried to ignore the man. 

However, he found it increasingly hard to not respond as the man obviously tried to provoke another argument. He was like one of those rowdy kittens the Mage went on about. 

Fenris decided to try a more subtle and diplomatic response he had seen Hawke use to good effect with friends. He would often put a hand on Fenris’s shoulder at times and the elf had found it calming. Not wanting to make a display of it, he opted to grip the Mage just above the knee. 

The Mage’s posture stiffened immediately. Ah. Perhaps the gauntlets detracted from his intent. Unaccustomed to such acts he tried petting the man as he had learned to pet Hawke’s Mabari. That seemed to work. The Mage relaxed into his touch, even letting his leg fall towards Fenris. He carried on pleasantly at the table without the baiting sass of a few moments ago. Fenris felt pleased with himself that he had successfully used this technique and on such a challenge of a subject no less, but this was short lived. After two hands of Wicked Grace the blond doubled down on his annoying ‘Mage Rights’ prattle.

When the Mage outright dared him to action, the first thing that came to Fenris’s mind was how the last painless part of him was the tip of the index finger resting on the Mage’s thigh. A thigh was not as vital a part as the heart so it should not hurt nearly as much, especially if he only used the one finger. Staring into those defiant brown eyes Fenris gave into his temptation and slipped his finger into the human’s thigh. 

The instant widening of those eyes and sudden darker flush to Anders’ cheeks made Fenris smile in satisfaction. He thought he saw a touch of ethereal blue before the Mage shut his eyes tightly. The Mage was quiet so it must not be too terribly painful Fenris had deduced as he marveled at the pain receding from his hand again. 

When the Mage spoke again his eyes remained shut and he spoke slowly and lowly enough only for Fenris to hear. The part that struck him like a stone was, “When that bastard Magister or anyone working for him comes for you, my magic which you loath so much, will be yours”.

Fenris felt ashamed and snatched his hand away. When the Mage and the Pirate retreated to the back it was a relief.

The pirate eventually returned and headed straight for that sell-sword she had been seducing earlier, but Anders was not to be seen.

Fenris decided he should speak to the man. Apologize. Considering the healer’s unexpected declaration, perhaps he might even still be persuaded to help if Fenris could find the right words to describe his predicament. His thoughts were hopeful as he examined his now pain-free hand.

So Fenris slunk off towards Isabela’s room and found the Mage, coming out of the rogue’s bedroom and smelling faintly of male human sex hastily cleansed. Again. His previous suspicions arose with a vengeance. This was no post battle Southern human reaction. This was perversion against one of their companions.

When the Mage dared to brandish magic at him Fenris saw red.

He wanted to hurt the Mage, but not risk killing him so just in case of an accident he did not phase into the man’s chest but low to his gut. That would normally be a worse wound but he had seen the Mage heal far more severe injuries. He plunged his hand into the Mage and relished the painlessness running up his arm. When it reached that part of the spine just below the neck it was as if all the muscles which attached there relaxed for the first time simultaneously and relief blossomed out from that point. His eyes had trouble focusing and he sighed deeply at the release. 

Suddenly the scent of sex was everywhere and when he looked again at the Mage’s face blue light seeped from his eyes and he had bit his lip so hard blood ran down his chin. Shocked, Fenris withdrew his hand and caught the Mage as he began to fall. 

The Mage was a wreck, babbling as if drunk.

As he had picked the Mage up and carried him into the bedroom the elf fought the rise of bile from his stomach. It was too similar. He could not stop the flood of thoughts. His head swam with memories of the depraved blood magic games Danarius and Hadriana would play with him, his body a puppet to their whims. He though back, the beach was his doing as well. Why hadn't the Mage said so? Fear. Fear of this exact situation. Venhedis, he was like them. He had felt an icy panic start to take him, but then his small, cold hand was being held by the Mage’s large warm ones and confusion overtook the panic. Trust the Mage to confuse him out of a panic.

***

So he sat on the edge of the bed watching the Mage and waiting, for what he was not sure. In the stillness Fenris studied the Mage. His hair had fallen out of it’s tie and haloed his face and the lamplight made it glow reddish. A lock fell across his long nose. The effect was rather fox-like.

The silence was broken by a knife point under his ribs and a harsh voice in his ear, ”what the fuck did you do Fenris? If you were anyone else you’d be bleeding out now so talk”. Isabela of course, it was her room after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Fenris has a bit of a clue now.


	7. A Fox Gone to Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends get involved and Fenris tries to make amends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just went ahead and removed a total chapter number since this keeps getting bigger. I am so sleep deprived for other reasons but the comments and kudos keep me going my lovelies.

Chapter 7: A Fox Gone to Ground

“He is alive. We were fighting. I’m not sure what happened. His eyes were glowing blue.” he said without inflection and turned only his head to look at her accusing eyes.

Her dark eyes bore into him but she must have been satisfied by what she saw, that or the randomly loud snore that came from the mage assuage her fears. Whatever the reason, the blade was removed from where it had been expertly placed between his armor pieces. She stepped forward and placed a hand to the sleeping man’s face. She looked relieved. Then she looked down at Anders’ pants and frowned.

“Exactly how did he end up with sullied trousers so soon after having a wank?”, she asked with surprise.

“I did not touch him there,” Fenris said quickly.

“ A ‘Warden’s thing’ my ass”, she muttered as she started to try to rouse the man by shaking him.

“Perhaps the Witch could be of help,” Fenris added, pulling away from the both of them. 

“Well then, go get her already”, the Pirates replied, not looking away from the Mage.

He started towards the door but stopped just short of it when she called out his name. Her normally teasing voice was cold and deadly serious.

”Fenris”, she paused until he met her eyes and continued in a matter of fact tone, “if I find you did something...sexual to hurt him I’m going to cut your balls off”. 

He did not doubt her. 

He quickly did as she bayed him, he alerted Hawke and Merrill that the Mage was in need of assistance. He made his way back toward the boarding area with Hawk and his Witch.

Unexpectedly an instant after they entered the room the Witch barreled towards him and pulled him painfully by the ear like a misbehaving child. One could imagine the fierce Keeper she could have been.

“Fenedhis lasa 1 ! Ecto gammant 2 ” she hiss into his ear, ‘how could you Fenris? I know you do not get along but to use  _ that _ to hurt him, Dirthara-ma! 3 ”

“Merrill!” Hawke shouted as he placed a hand on her shoulder, “Let’s all just calm down and talk. Please?”

The warrior seized her hand in such a way that her grip was weakened enough he plucked it away and jumped backwards. “Do not touch me again Witch”, he replied gruffly. 

She glared at him as if he were a giant spider’s corpse and said, “ _ You _ are telling  _ me  _ to keep my hands to myself?”

“I did not know, not until after this evening”, he said rubbing his ear, “Is he... well?” 

“Well enough”, a voice sultry from behind him answered, making him jump again, “though he is still too out of it to say what happened. Things are not looking good for your balls”. This gartered looks of confusion from Hawke and Merrill. Isabela followed up with a cheerful smirk and a cutting motion with her hand. Merrill nodded approvingly while Hawke looked between the two women, his face profoundly alarmed. 

“Do not lie. You had to have known. He reeked on the coast”, the Witch accused.

“I will not be lectured at by a consort to demons”, Fenris bit out.

“Fenris, that’s not helping” Hawke said in a disappointed tone then firmly interrupted himself, “Isabela put the daggers away!”

“Hey, you’re good in the sack, but I wouldn’t exactly call you a demon Hawk”, Isabela quibbed as she secured her daggers in their discrete sheaths. 

“Isabela!” Merrill admonished.

Hawke returned his concerned gaze to Fenris and implored, “Please Fenris, just tell us what happened”.

Fenris sighed heavily. This man could pull words from a dead man. “It was an accident during that last fight. The smoke, the wind, I didn’t scent it until the beach. I thought, it does not matter what I thought. I was wrong.” Fenris said morosely.

“Oh. Oh dear. I suppose that makes sense with that firestorm you two in.” Merrill said and then with frown added, “It doesn’t explain this though.” 

“What does any of that mean?” Hawke said in exasperation. He turned to the warrior with a cross expression.

“Fenris, what happened tonight?”, Hawke asked.

“Perhaps I should not speak of it, the Mage might prefer that”, Fenris answered with a look to the Witch. 

Both Hawke and Isabela turned to her and after a sigh she nodded.

“Merrill?” Hawk said.

“Are you sure kitten?” Isabela asked.

Merrill nodded curtly.

“I was in the wrong, it will not happen again. I will make amends tomorrow.” Fenris added. 

That seemed to satisfy the trio. Isabela strutted back to Anders, who was humming a tune to himself oblivious to the tension in the room. Hawke wrapped an arm around the Witch in concern and they both joined Isabela. Fenris took the opportunity to flee back to Hightown.

***

Darktown’s foul stench did horrible things to Fenris’s hung over stomach but at least the dimness was an improvement from the glare of the white city stones for his splitting headache. He made his way through the dark and despair towards the inviting glow of the Mage’s twin lanterns. 

It was unfortunately busy. The sallow and wasted faces of Darktown filled the clinic. The choking coughs and moans of the sick mixed with the nervous chatter of their loved ones reverberated through the large room and made Fenris’s head pound. At least the room’s high ceiling allowed the heat to rise, leaving much more comfortable than the rest of Darktown. It also smelled far better, a spot of cleanliness in the sewer with the pleasant scent of herbs distracting from the sweat of the gathering. 

Fenris saw the Mage working over a middle aged woman on a table, her dark skin had a sickly grey hue and was sweat shiny. Her eyes fought to focus on an anxious elven woman with a forced smile who was holding her hand. The healer furrowed his brow as he lay his head on her chest. He stood up quickly and placed his hand where his head was, a green glow emanating from it. The human woman took a sudden deep breath, awareness returning to her eyes. Her companion’s smile became earnest, wrinkles deepening around her eyes as they embraced each other. Meanwhile the Healer moved quickly to a table, mixing various herbs into a cup and a bit more into a satchel. He returned to the women, making the sick one drink from the cup and giving the satchel to the other. After a quick word he moved onto a coughing mother and boy and as he returned from mixing them an herbal satchel he almost tripped when he caught sight of Fenris. 

He looked frightened at first, his startled eyes wide. Fenris was again reminded of a fox, one ready to spring away from a larger predator. Yet they were in the Fox’s den now, a fox ground to ground. Fenris suddenly felt very out of place after the man broke eye contact and turned back to his patient with a steely expression. 

Fenris started towards the Mage but found his way suddenly blocked by a woman who was familiar but he could not quite place.

“The Healer is occupied. What business do you have here?”, she asked sternly.

“I need to speak with him”, Fenris said.The crease between her eyebrows deepened..

“Can you not see the sick people around you, elf? There was a gas leak in the tunnels last night. He is needed. You seem well enough. Go home”, she said.

“I will wait”, Fenris replied.

“You will-”, the woman cut what she said short. Anders lay his hand upon her shoulder.

“It’s fine Lirene”, he said. At her unconvinced look he smiled and added “could you get more water boiling please?” 

She pinched her lips in a tight line but relented, “Very well Anders”. She walked towards a makeshift hearth.

The Mage faced Fenris with a guarded look clutching his staff tightness with one hand, the other fisted on his hip “What do you want Fenris?”, he asked shortly.

Fenris found it difficult to speak for an instant, “I wish to apologize for yesterday evening. I-”

“Hawk bullied you into coming down here you mean. I don’t have time for this”, Anders said exasperated and started to turn but Fenris stepped in his way. 

“No,  _ I _ wanted to speak with you,” he said quickly. “Perhaps later we might speak privately? I will wait,” he asked hopefully. He had turned down his face slightly and looked up at the taller human. It was a deferential posture he went to instinctively. The instant he did the subservience of it, especially directed towards a mage, grated at him but before he could change it the hard look the Healer wore had softened a bit and he sighed “Fine, but if you are going to be waiting around here then help out. Ask Lirene for something you can do”. Then Fenris was watching a golden mess of hair retreating as the Mage went to attend to his next patient.

The woman Lirene gave him a sceptical look but was quickly impressed by his unusual strength when he single handedly moved an unconscious giant of a man from the floor to a cot. It was not particularly difficult work but the sounds and smells of the people were really starting to turn his stomach.

It was with no little surprise he found himself with a steaming cup which smelled of elfroot and other herbs in his hand and catching an almost shy look from the blond man before his eyes darted away while he examined the contents of the shelf beside them, finger tracing over a vial of greenish fluid. The labels were still meaningless to Fenris.

“It’s my own secret recipe for hangovers. If you weren’t so tan you’d probably be green,” the Mage said with affected casualness. 

“Erm it’s appreciated”, Fenris replied and sipped on the brew. It was much more palatable than regular elfroot based potions. 

“This is much less bitter than regular health potions”, Fenris remarked.

Bottle in hand, Anders turned back to him with a small lopsided smile which warmed his eyes, “A good Healer has many talents. Herbalism is a must, not just for the magic adverse”. The teasing smile he wore was quite charming.

In the front of the clinic there was a commotion, a woman and young man carrying two children rush in “Anders!” the woman called.

“Back to work for me”, he said and rushed to meet her calling out, “Evelina!”

Fenris continued to help where he could, feeling much better since the Mage’s brew. The patients were generally happy to have any help but the level of gratitude from elven Darktown residents’ made him feel strongly but he wasn’t sure what exactly he was feeling so it was uncomfortable. It reminded him of his discomfort in the alienage. He felt ill prepared interacting with the free peoples of Thedas as it was but there was so much expectation of social conventions for which he was completely ignorant among the city elves and Dalish alike. 

Yet, the feeling of doing something worthwhile won out and he found he enjoyed himself despite his awkwardness. He never even imagined he could do something like this. He was made to be a weapon, a thing of killing not healing. He took delight in breaking his mold like this, on becoming, even just for a day, different than his former master designed. Still, the work seemed endless and being underground distorted his sense of time. The only inkling he had was the rumbling of his belly. 

Through it he found his eye constantly being drawn back to the Mage. The human was still dashing about from patient to patient ceaselessly, more locks of blond hair escaping from his tie. His competence in his craft was evident, as was the care for the people he helped. He used his magic sparingly but when the clinic was just quieting down a pregnant elven woman was carried in nearly lifeless. The entire room glowed with swirling green and blue magic. It was a glorious display of magical prowess which would have awed even the most skilled in Tevinter. 

Oh, Fenris knew in his bones that magic was dangerous, but the warrior could not shake that part of his cultural background which made such competent displays of power extremely attractive. It was beyond frustrating to feel attraction for something that had been used to hurt him for the entirety of his memory. His pulse quickened that much more in the blended emotions of it. 

Although this mage, he had never hurt Fenris. He healed and only groused when Fenris refused it, never forcing it. His magic even felt different. Most other magic itched or burned. Blood magic felt like being cut and branded at the same time. This magic tingled pleasantly along the lyrium under Fenris’s skin in the way only that particular magic ever did.

When the light faded the Mage faltered, falling to the floor and then reaching for his head with eyes bleary. 

Fenris was as swift to the Healer’s side as in battle, a hand on the humans shoulder to steady his listing frame.

“Turn the lanterns out” the Mage said with his eyes closed. In his periphery Fenris noted Lirene moving quickly to do so. 

“Fool Mage, you can’t help anyone if you work yourself to death,” Fenris said.

“I’ve been telling him that for years and he never listens”. Lirene said with a sad smile as she walked back to them.

“When is the last time he’s eaten?”, Fenris asked her.

“I’m right here”, Anders said with annoyance. 

“Yes, you are here but you should be in bed now,” Fenris said sharply.

Fenris hauled the lanky man to his feet but with the blond’s continued unsteadiness Fenris quite easily knocked his arm under the back of the man’s knees just above his boots and lifted him up.

“Did you just sweep me off my feet?”, the human said, his brown eyes had sudden focus and blinked owlishly at Fenris. The crimson on the previously pale cheeks was pleasing to Fenris. He felt his mouth pull into a wolfish grin.

“Once again. You really are a delicate Mage flower. Now be quiet ”, Fenris replied to his bundle.

“Bring food and I will see that he eats it”, he said to Lirene in passing as he carried the Mage to his private area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I forgot to post the footnotes this morning!
> 
> 1\. Fenedhis lasa: Elven. Meaning officially undefined as of yet. A common curse  
> 2\. Not actually from a language in Dragon Age, ‘Ecto Gammat’ is a quote from the 5th Element which means ‘never without my permission’ in the divine language. I made up a conjugation to make it mean “never without their permission” because I am a nerd and this is my odd little story  
> 3\. Dirthara-ma: Elven. "May you learn." Used as a curse.
> 
> I already have 2.5 pages for the next chapter but thought this was a better break. I have my outline but my meandering to get to those points is making more chapters.


	8. People Will Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris actually attempt communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is out hot on the heels of the last chapter but I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Chapter 8: People Will Talk

The quarters were small but clean, a bed, a chest, a chair and an ink stained table being used as a writing desk with a lamp and thick stack of papers strewn atop it. Fenris deposited the Mage on the bed and turned the chair around to sit, elbows on knees facing the shaky human.

The Mage raised up and twisted to lean on his elbow. “Carrying me to bed two nights in a row? People will talk” he laughed nervously, alert enough that his apprehension was obvious. Even in sitting Fenris was high enough that he loomed over the supine human and said, “I believe  _ we _ now have the time to talk”.

The Mage bit at his bottom lip nervously. “Alright then. Whatever shall we talk about? The weather? The finer points of Orlesian opera? Or perhaps your new habit of making me mess my smalls in public?” 

There was a knock at the poor excuse for a door and an instant later it was opening with Lirene carrying a basket. Her expression was flat but there was faint color in her cheeks. “Here, there is some supper for you as well elf. Please see that he eats.” Fenris just nodded. Lirene gave him a genuine smile and glanced between the two of them before shutting the door and leaving.

“Well now she thinks we’re sleeping together instead of whatever this torture the Mage game you are playing is.” Anders said tiredly with eyes distant and a vague gesture between them. “It must gaul you to have someone think you’d touch a mage like that”.

“I suppose I could do far worse, you are a very pretty fool afterall”, Fenris said.

“Not the fucking point elf!”, Anders snapped and jumped up to sit on the edge of the bed. “No, the only touch you’d give a mage would be evisceration or public humiliation”. Fenris’s markings sizzled with the sting of electric magic.

Fenris felt his shame sink into him like a frosted knife to the gut. He could not bear to meet those fiery eyes so he hung his head down. Freedom meant all his mistakes were his own but until now all those he had wronged were dead, one did not make amends with the dead. He felt powerless now. 

“I do not know what to do to make this right, if it even can be made right. Please, tell me what to do. If you wish to use that bolt on me for this one occasion I will not retaliate,” Fenris said in a small voice and braced himself but the shock never came and the biting pain prickling along his scars slowly faded.

“I should you know, I really should. Maker’s bloody balls you deserve it,'' Anders said adamantly but the magic did not flare again. “Bela seemed like she wanted to gut you like a fish. I had to tell them all I was a big boy and could handle this myself”.

Unable to think of what else to say, he busied himself by pulling the food from the basket. Two plates of roasted vegetables, potatoes and meat which appeared to be a type of fowl, perhaps chicken. He handed the larger portion to the Mage who, though he still had a guarded expression, once he had food in front of him began to eat with alarming voracity. 

“I am ashamed of my actions last night. I apologize. I mistook your intent and thought to hurt you in order to scare you off but did not realize I was violating you in that way.” Fenris said.

The Maged eyed him appraisingly with what would be a serious look if his cheeks had not been stuffed with potato. After he swallowed the mouthful he replied. “Merrill said you hadn’t realized you had this effect on me until outside Isabela’s room but I was still afraid you were trying to use this reaction against me,” Anders sighed,” but Maker’s bloody balls I actually believe you are sincere”. He looked up at the ceiling with an exasperated sigh but then turned his gaze sharply back to the warrior. “Still, you intended to hurt me. I want to know, what was it that made you want to use that on me at all? What in the void were you trying to ‘scare me off’ from?”

“I was convinced you were engaging in lecherous acts focused on our companions without their knowledge”, Fenris said. 

“Andraste’s knickers! You thought that? Why would you think that?” Anders exclaimed with a look of unmitigated confusion.

“I am sorry. You were acting strangely and I… misinterpreted much. I can be paranoid when it comes to mages and magic but it is with good reason. There never seems to be an end to the corruptions of magic for me” Fenris could feel himself dipping his head low again to look up at the Mage. It didn’t bother him so much this time. It was worth it to get away from something he could feel dangerously close to starting a shouting match “I know what it is to be abused by magic in that way. I would not have forced that on anyone if I knew”. 

He looked down at his hands, the implements of all his sins. They were bare of the gauntlets at the moment because he had been tending to people earlier. The left one still held the familiar pain but the right was free of it. A large human hand enveloped his painless one with that strength and gentleness which had surprised him last night. It was strange how wonderful touch felt without the pain distracting from it. Pale fingers curled around the back while a slightly calloused thumb rubbed firmly back and forth in the center of his palm. It made his own look small, innocent. The elf’s mouth felt dry. 

“I’m sorry you endured that. I would never. For me it was the disgust in your eyes that was unsettling, it reminded me of when the...of things I’d rather not be reminded.” Anders had been looking at their joined hands as he spoke but then looked up, “Why did you do it at the table? You didn’t look more than annoyed at the time, not enraged?.”

“I started because you were needling me so I needled you back. You didn’t seem to have as much pain with it as you still managed to play unusually well. I continued out of curiosity, and you didn’t seem to mind”, Fenris said.

“Mind? I was just trying to keep from alerting the whole table to the fact I was harder than ironbark. Wait. What had you so curious?” Anders asked, taking the bait.

“I also have a reaction when we...come together. I wanted to see if it would repeat. I have had unending pain laced throughout my body by these markers for as long as I can remember. That accident in battle was the first time I can recall not having pain in this arm. When it happened again I just wanted it to continue.”

“Maker's balls, that’s appalling. Bloody.. well, blood magic. Why did you never come to me with this?”, the Healer asked.

“You know I am wary of magic, it’s how I was afflicted with these marks in the first place. I don’t want to argue about it. I just can’t imagine not being afraid of magic and the pain, though intense, was always my normal.”

“Well, I know now and apparently I’m also a health potion made specifically for prickly, glowy elves” the Healer shrugged.

“You would still... help me?” Fenris asked in surprise, hope blossomed in his heart.

“Of course, whatever else I am, I am your healer”, Anders smiled warmly. 

“I am grateful, I will owe you a great debt and will find a way to repay you”, Fenris said. Fenris felt a nervous rush at the kindness. It was difficult to trust kindness. Things were never this easy. Before meeting Hawke people were never this kind, especially mages, without a high price. Yet if he wanted to try this strange balm and the Mage was willing, it was a risk he was willing to take.

“You could perhaps help out down here again. You did good work in the clinic today, especially for someone who usually cleaves people in half”. Anders suggested.

“That would be agreeable”, Fenris answered. “You seem well, but you are a Healer. Did I harm you when I... touched you?” Fenris asked.

“I, no. It doesn’t hurt when you do that,” Anders said while averting his eyes. This blushing was rather more appealing than the mage’s scowl.

“You had bitten your lip until your mouth was bloody”, Fenris said with a questioning tone.

“Yes. Well, how do I put this. If you made noise in the tower things would just end in punishment and frustration for everyone involved”, Anders laughed.

“Ah. It just seemed odd that  _ this  _ is the only way in which I’ve gotten you to be quiet in all the time I’ve known you. I would have thought you would have been more boisterous than usual”, Fenris said.

“You’ve thought of me in bed?” Anders asked with a mirthful grin. 

“I, that is, you, I-” Fenris floundered and felt his face burn all the way to the tips of his ears.

Anders gave a hearty laugh as he searched the basket for more food, turning up two small mottled apples. “Here”, he said, tossing one to Fenris who caught it in one hand without thinking. He turned it over in his hand.

“I haven’t seen an apple like this before,” he stated before taking a bite. It had a tartness competing with sweetness and a pleasant crunchiness. “Delicious,” he concluded. The blush had returned to the Mage’s face. How strange, but also... strangely pleasing.

“It’s one grown in Nevarra”, he said turning his own around in his hand. “It’s interesting isn’t it? How many different sorts of apples there are in the world”. The Healer took a bite. A rivlet of juice ran down the man's chin and it reminded Fenris of the blood from last night. He was struck by a stray impulse lick the sweetness up, the intrusive thought disturbed him. 

“It was not as intense, with just the one finger in my leg I was not overcome. Was it the same for you? Perhaps it will be even less intense the further away you are from my heart?”, Anders mused.

A part of Fenris which had still been very apprehensive relaxed at the question. “The relief spread up my arm more slowly that time. You wish to subdue the reaction?” Fenris asked.

“Well, it was pleasurable but I’m not sure if I want to experience that again. I get so out of sorts after and it’s so intimate. It would be good to figure out if it can be done less intensely. We hardly get along at all. I imagine causing me to climax is a bit awkward for you as well,” he said and took a last bite from his apple. 

“Do not do it if you are uncomfortable, but know I will keep you safe while you are vulnerable in this way.” Fenris said and then added “Having a mage writhing is fine as long as it’s under my terms”, Fenris deadpanned and gave a sharp cough of a laugh when the Mage sputtered on his bit of apple. Afraid he had erred in his attempt at humor his hastily added “Your terms are most important here. If this is too much to ask don’t force yourself out of a ...healer’s heart”.

“I swear, you are just trying to find new and interesting ways to kill me aren’t you?” Anders said as he stood up, removed his coat and hung it on a hook on the wall. He was wearing the simple but well made tunic from last night and the laces had come undone. The lamp light caught on the hair covering his chest making it shine red gold like the human’s stubble, but there was a conspicuous absence. A scar as big as a hand rested over the man’s chest. Magic or no, that would have been a deathblow without question. How in Thedas had the man survived? Fenris decided that question could wait for another time.

“I'm sorry, I can’t risk being out of sorts tonight. The injured will probably need tending through the night. Barring a catastrophe we could...explore this tomorrow?” the Blond propositioned. Fenris stood and walked over to the man. 

“You may come to the mansion tomorrow night if you still wish it”, Fenris said and opened the door. He glanced back to the Mage who responded with a tired smile “that sounds fine”. 

Before he shut the door on the human he thought to add, “Mage let me reassure you, in the Mansion you will not need to bite through your lip. There will be no interruptions. You can be as loud as you like, even scream if you wish, and no one will bother us”. The intense flush and wide eyes of the human had Fenris smiling to himself once he closed the door, hopefully the promise of privacy would appeal to the Mage considering his current lodgings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I've not been clear, I'm writing Fenris very socially awkward because he is not used to interacting with people in a free society. 
> 
> Next chapter back to Anders POV


	9. Just Another Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to just not worry about total chapters so here is a big slice of life one with a bit of fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have only played DA II once and did not have Sebastian so I'm not sure about my portrayal here. Let me know if it's far off won't you?

Chapter 9: Just Another Tuesday

Anders' sleep had been interrupted by the ill patients but all had been well enough by morning to leave the clinic and return to the corners of Darktown they called home. A few of the Fereldans who owed Lirene their jobs had helped tidy up the clinic. 

Anders had been too full of nervous energy to try to catch up on sleep. He tried to keep his mind off the subject of violent elf with the sad eyes or his parting words. Anders still could not decide whether they were a threat, bad flirting or somehow both. Most alarmingly, he found vaguely ominous flirting exciting. 

So he found himself on a house call to visit Evelina and see how her adopted children were healing. 

He hadn’t really known her well in the Circle. She was one who had seemed content with their lot in life and generally scorned Anders for his running. Yet now they were both Apostates, just trying to survive in Darktown and do a little good for others at the same time. 

The little boy ‘Cricket’ had been much improved but all the children and Evelina were all malnourished. He had seen her in passing often but only now did he notice how care worn she had become in such a short time. 

He was horrified to learn she was so desperate to provide for the orphans that she had been considering turning herself into the gallows to try and get her children help. She thought they would at least be sent to the Chantry which would provide consistent meals and be far away from the misery of the Undercity. 

There was so much that he had been missing in the world around him. The stars, the simple pleasure of silliness with a friend, this suffering. 

‘She is free from the Templars. Her choices were her own. This was beyond our cause’. Justice had defended mildly.

‘There are things just as important as our cause’, Anders thought as he watched the children share the food he had brought them. ‘This isn't freed. This isn’t how anyone should have to live. There are more things worth doing for our cause and other things unrelated we should do anyway because they are right and just’.

He swore he would help them and gave them coin for a few days of food. She had promised to not act on her plan, yet. 

He had come to Hawke’s estate hoping Hawk might be able to help find better living situations for the blight orphans. He planned to also inquire with Varric and Lirene about work for the older children. He would even take aid from Sebastian despite how distasteful it was to consider the Chantry an option. He certainly did not relish the smugness that would certainly light on the sanctimonious brother’s face. 

Hawk had been out running one of his endless errands around the city but Bodahn had let him in to wait and Merrill had peaked out of the study at the sound of his entrance. The Dalish girl darted over with rapid questions regarding his well being, the altercation with Fenris, and whether the Elven man had made amends or if Anders would like her to hit the warrior with petrify for Anders. 

Anders had given her answers enough to calm her and explained the reason for his visit to which she smiled brightly, inquiring if there were any Elven among the children. Bodahn had also become interested in the topic. He extolled the joys of adopted fatherhood. As he spoke he turned to look with fondness at Sandal who was sitting by the fire, happily tinkering with an enchanted ring. Bodahn went over to see how his son was fairing with his latest project and Merrill had pulled him to sit with her. 

Now Merrill was curled up in a large stuffed armchair engrossed in a musty tome. Her finger traced the words and her ears twitched excitedly from time to time. Looking at her now was hard to believe the cheerful elf practiced blood magic. Hopefully Hawke would be able to dissuade her from her dangerous obsession with that twisted mirror. His Justice cloud grumbled at the thought of it, but after the frenzy of the last few days the quiet was welcome and the thought of breaking the silence with an argument was not appealing. 

So now Anders sipped his tea while he waited. He had a book on his lap himself but had only glanced at it. His mind kept wandering back to another, more vexing elf. It was irritating how resigned the elf had been as he waited to be hit by a bolt, as if it were inevitable that Anders would want to hurt him because that’s just what mages did in the elf’s mind. The more he thought of the warrior’s actions at the tavern the more the part of him that was Justice thundered. Mercy was not an easy concept for his friend, even if he had once been acquainted with a Spirit of Mercy in the fade. The mortal part of Anders might have relented at how lost the elf looked, or even might have stayed his hand just to prove the point, but the incensed Spirit would not. 

What had stayed the bolt from flying was when the elf had asked how he could make it right. It had sprung vivid memories of Velanna. That was what had quieted the Spirit in them. 

Their memories had been entangled since joining, some shared and some not. Their memories of the Wardens were like two decks of cards shuffled together or seeing the same mountain from different sides but it was usually possible to figure out the originator from reactions of companions or context. 

Prior to joining with Justice, Anders avoided heavy subjects, such as ‘the appropriate atonement for the murderous rampage of innocents’ as if they were the blight. So this was obviously a memory from Justice. Funny that both elves who rather loathed Anders seemed to have such a similar conversation for Justice. 

Anders was suddenly suffused with a recollection:

A beautiful woman with hair of gold was glaring at him with contempt.

The memory shifts abruptly, as dreams shift.

The same woman smiled at him. Flowers and ribbons were woven intricately in her hair. He was saying his wedding vows. Aura.

Another shift.

Aura with her face contorted in anger throws the sock she had been darning at me and storms out of the room. 

The world faded to black until a small spark seemed like a sun.

Twin lockets glint in the firelight, spinning light around them as they dangle from my hand which gasps a bouquet of jonquil and wallflowers1. The blooms spoke: sorrow, I love you, please love me back. I will be faithful to you in adversity. She smiles but her eyes are still full of sadness. 

‘Damn it Justice, it’s muddled enough in here without you digging up Kristoff’s memories’, Anders thought.

‘Kristoff was successful in overcoming personal conflicts,’ return Justice.

‘Fenris is not my wife and I am not going to give him flowers like a pompous, scheming Orlesian’, Anders thought indignantly.

‘Is this not a step in the process of courting?’ asked Justice while pushing memories of Anders’ long pale fingers wrapped around a deceptively delicate, lyrium lined hand. 

‘That can mean many things. You’re just hooked on that lyrium touch like a cat to catnip’, Anders reproached. 

‘We both are agreeable to continued incorporeal touches. Now you have become distracted with thoughts of his carnal touches as well’, Justice returned.

“Gah! It’s just been a while. Hush up you!”, Anders replied. Out loud. Shit. Lying to himself used to be easier than this. 

“Anders?” Merrill looked over with concern knitting her brow. 

Mercifully, just then the front door opened distracting them. Several people could be heard entering with Bodahn fussing. Anders took the opportunity to dash away from Merrill's questions and into the main hall where he found Hawk, Sebastian and the elf who had been hounding his every waking thought lately in the flesh. It was strange to see him in such a familiar way after the last two days. The warrior caught his eye for a moment, his face impassive, but turned back to the Chantry Brother to continue a discussion of some sort. The ‘let’s lock all the mages away and throw away the key’ team was getting along. Wonderful. Anders watched with unease as they walked together towards the back of the house. 

“Anders, what a surprise. Everything is alright I hope?”, Hawk said while glancing nervously between Anders and the warrior.

“I’m fine. How is your day going, neck deep in trouble before noon?”, Anders grinned.

“More like knee deep in annoyance,” Hawk shrugged and headed for the study. “The Viscount wants me to go work something out with the Arishok. I was actually going to swing by the clinic to rope you into the trip just in case things get ugly”. 

“Sure I’ll tag along. I actually stopped by to ask a favor”, Anders replied.

“Oh?” Hawke said as he bent over behind Merrill who looked up at him and planted a kiss on her forehead. She smiled brightly and giggled.

“That tickles!” she exclaimed but pulled him down by the beard to plant a kiss on his nose. 

It was cute and he was glad for his friend's happiness, despite the spite he had hit them both with when she had first moved in. Still, a cold pang of jealousy pricked his heart. It wasn’t so much for want of Hawke, a part of him would always love the man in one way or another. Hawke was no Mage but he had a strange pull on those around him. Anders guessed everyone was just a little bit in love with the rogue at some point. No, what he was jealous of most was their simple ability to express their love in the open with such casualness. Anders had never had that luxury with someone he loved. 

Anders cleared his throat.

“Do you need another cup of tea Anders?”, Merrill asked. 

Hawke laughed but when he was done closed the door and walked back with a serious look in his eye. 

“Is it alright that Fenris is here? He said he went to see you. Everything is, well not good but not explosive between you two? Back to a base level animosity at most?” Hawke meandered with his questions.

“We...came to an understanding of sorts”, Anders said carefully.

“I am cautiously optimistic”, Hawke said with a questioning inflection.

“Yes. Well, I’m not sure if it will last but he’s agreed to help out in the clinic now and again,” Anders said. 

“That should be good for him too, not being cooped up alone in that musty old mansion all day,” Merrill chimed in.

“So what is this favor?”, Hawk asked.

“Oh you know, rescue some orphans, save an innocent mage in peril. Just another Tuesday for you, right?” answered Anders.

Hawk clapped a hand on his shoulder and chuckled, “well, tell me all about it at dinner2. With all the talking in the Keep we didn't have time for a nuncheon2 so I’m famished”.

“Oh Hawke, we have to help Anders on this. He told me all about it earlier”, Merrill said.

“Lunch first. We stopped at the hightown market on the way home. They had some of those Fereldan sausages. I sent Bodahn out to get Varric for this errand we’ll run this afternoon so Sebastian and Fenris are probably getting started in the kitchen,” Hawke took Merril’s hand , she stood and they all started out of the room.

Anders stopped suddenly, Merrill nearly walking into him. 

“Wait, the pampered ex-prince and the elf who survives on wine and anger are preparing lunch?”, Anders said. With visions of the pair mangling food, perhaps even with weapons, he set off at a brisk, stride on his long legs to the kitchen. He could hear Hawke call out, “Huzzah! We get Anders’ food for dinner,” as he and Merrill dallied in the study.

He was a bit too forceful with opening the wooden door to the kitchen and it made a resounding thump on the wall. Indirect light illuminated the well equipped kitchen. The room was enormous with a grand hearth and three workstations covered in tools. Herbs hung in the window drying and the larder door was opening revealing it to be well stocked with staples and sundries. The kitchen’s crowning glory was the luxury of a private oven. It was a sin the thing was almost alway cold. 

Fenris was butchering the vegetables and Sebastian was about to add the sausages to a pan in which oil had already begun to smoke. Not too late then. 

“Both of you stop what you're doing! Vael, don’t you dare put those sausages in that pan!,” Anders said with a dramatic flair. 

Perhaps it was the utter confusion, it was very apparent on Sebastian's face, Fenris merely narrowed his eyes a bit, but they both complied. Sebastian looked between the two other men.

“Anders, will you be joining us for dinner?” Sebastian asked uncertainly.

“If I can help make our dinner, yes”, Ander replied. “Get that pan off the fire and put a new one in about a foot higher with some water in the pan about half way covering the sausages. That is unless you like the meat both burnt and raw.” He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves as he approached the table Fenris was working over.

Sebastian stood holding the rasher of sausages with a contemplative look before apparently coming to some sort of conclusion. Nodding, he said, “Aye, it’s fortunate we have you here then,” and proceeded.

Anders looked at Fenris, then his haphazardly chopped vegetables, then back to Fenris.

“You know that’s not a broadsword, right?” Anders said with a smirk.

Fenris looked away with a scowl, his eyebrows tried to scrutch down on his nose in the cutest of ways.”It’s always been sufficient, I’ve never had the opportunity to learn the finer points of the culinary arts”, the warrior said stiffly.

Ah. He’s embarrassed. Anders’ smile softened and he asked ”would you like me to show you? I bet you’d pick it up quickly”. 

Fenris turned back and seemed to search Anders’ face a moment before replying, “Very well”. So Anders moved to stand beside him.

“First let me see how you are holding it.” Anders said, then quickly corrected, “slide you finger down like this”. He held his own knife in demonstration.

“Like this?” Fenris asked as he copied the hold.

“Yes, perfect. Now the hand holding the vegetable should curl like a claw so you don’t cut yourself. I know it feels weird but you get used to it. Yes, just like that”, Anders instructed.

Fenris raised the knife to chop the summer squash. 

“Wait. You don’t actually lift the knife all the way up. Here, let me show you.”Anders said as he slid behind Fenris. He brought his hand to rest atop the elf’s before he realized he made a mistake. The elf’s posture stiffened, muscle tense. Anders froze.

After a moment he whispered,”I’m sorry, is this alright?”

Fenris let out a quick breath and said ”It’s fine, show me your technique”.

“Good. I’m going to guild your other hand too, alright?” asked Anders.

The elf gave a quick nod. At this distance Anders could see the elf’s snowy locks bounce from the movement. He now stood behind the shorter man, looking over his shoulder. 

“You need to relax. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly” Anders told him. He took a deep breath himself and the elf followed suit, his posture relaxing somewhat. Anders noted he smelled elf sweat, sword oil, apple, and honey.

“Good, now look. We always keep the tip on the board. The movements are forward and down, back and up. It’s not about power it’s about control. You want a grip just firm enough not to slip but the motion is controlled and gentle. Controlled and gentle. Controlled and gentle”, Anders instructed and moved their hands to demonstrate in time with his voice.”Now you try”.

Anders let his hands rest to the sides of Fenris’s. Fenris copied the movements well. 

“Well done”, Anders smiled and looked at the elf. What he could see of the elf’s expression was impassive but his ear, which was currently directly in front of Anders, was blushing furiously. It was adorable. Before this new partition between himself and Justice he had missed so much detail in the world around him including the people around him it seemed. Anders had never before noticed these little subtle tells from the stoic elf. 

A sudden popping sound from Sebastian cooking the sausages startled Anders from his musing and he backed away from Fenris. 

Anders withdrew from behind Fenris and hastily said, “well, I’ll leave you to practice then.” Anders started towards the oven.

“Mage”, Fenris said and Anders met his still cool expression,”this was helpful, I appreciate it”. 

“Anytime elf”, he smiled. Feeling eyes upon him he looked over to the curious gaze of the Chantry Brother. Forcing his smile not to falter he asked the Brother, “ how are you fairing with the sausages Sebastian?”

“Well I think. When should I take them off?”, Sebastian replied.

“A few more minutes, wait until they are all puffed up, Then drain the water and let them brown a bit.”, Anders answered as he added wood to the oven and quickly started a fire with magic. He walked down the narrow stairs at the back of the upper larder to the cooler cellar storage which held the secret passage to Darktown. He gathered from both and returned to the kitchen.

He plopped his ingredients on an unused work table and started to work making a pastry dough. 

“What are you doing?” Sebastian inquired.

“Making a treat and some bread for the poor in Darktown. Hawke and I have an arrangement. I come by every so often to use some of this bread starter I made and put the oven to use. He gets something tasty and donates a bit of flour to the needy,” Anders explained as he finished kneading the dough and started folding it with the fat. He filled his hand with just a touch of frost magic so that the fat would stay solid in the heat. 

“Though the lands suffer a thousand wrongs, The Maker yet notices the smallest of deeds.” the Brother sang in his deep timbre. “You both do a good thing”.

“We do what we can”, Anders shrugged.

‘That is not the best one, does he know the best one?’, Justice rumbled. Anders chuckled to himself as he sliced the apples. He thought about how much Fenris seemed to like apples. 

“You find that verse funny?”, the Brother asked in confusion.

“No, not that. It’s just life. Life is very funny sometimes”, Anders said and started to place the apples slices on the cold dough. “Sebastian, it may seem odd but could you chant Benedictions 4:10?”

It was silent except for the sounds of cooking. Anders was not surprised. He walked his tart to the oven. It was just the right temperature so he put it in and closed the little door. He walked back to the table and started making a bread dough with wheat and rye. It was sticky at first but with kneading came together. He always loved making bread. It reminded him of his mother.

In the middle of his work the brothers voice sang:

Blessed are they who stand before  
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.  
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.

Anders smiled. When he looked over, the other two had the dinner ready. Fenris looked like he had a question but remained stoic as ever. 

“Go ahead I’ll just finish up here and be out shortly,” he said.  
Just as he was covering the bread he heard the kitchen door open again. It was Sebastian.

“I came for wine for the table”, he said but on his way to the larder he paused. “You seem well, after the other night I mean”.

Anders pursed his lips already not wanting to talk about this with the man, “yes. I am well”.

“Fenris will not speak of it except that he wishes to make amends and you were acting very familiar with him just now”, Sebastian continued.

“Is there something specific you want Sebastian?”, Anders asked tersely.

“What are your intentions?”, Sebastian said seriously.

Anders barked out a laugh.”My intentions? You're talking like he is some sort of unwitting damsel and I’m a dastardly scoundrel from one of Varric’s more sordid novels. He’s a big, sometimes bad elf. He can make his own decisions”.

Sebastian frowned,”He is my friend and I’ll not see him hurt”.

“Him hurt, Him? After what he did you’re worried about him being hurt?”, Anders scoffed as an old bitterness wrapped around his heart, “you do realize he could very easily eviscerate me, right? I suppose to you that would just be one less mage to worry about. A blessing to really,” Anders spat out as he washed his hands violently. “Just leave me alone Sebastian.”

It was quiet except for the creak of the stairs to the cellar and the light crackling of the wood as it burned. Anders took the tart from the oven and set it out to cool. His temper cooled with it. He thought of how lost Fenris’s green eyes could look. It was good he had someone to worry about him, even if that someone was a pompous ass. Maker knew Anders had prayed for someone to give a damn about him without any luck often enough through his life.

‘I am here Anders, I will always be here when you need me’, Justice murmured. 

‘I am so glad to be able to speak with you again my friend’, Anders thought and wiped at his eyes with his rolled up sleeve and sniffing. The stairs creaked again.

Sebastian carried two bottles of wine and stalled in the larder doorway when Anders looked over like he expected a fireball.

“I have no desire to hurt him,” said Anders. The archer relaxed a fraction at that.

“Why did you ask to hear that verse earlier?” Sebastian asked.

“You may wish you didn’t ask that,” Anders smiled sadly, “It has always been his favorite, even before”. Tapping the side of his held.

Sebastian looked truly alarmed at that. “It knows the Chant?”

“HE knows many things”, Anders said, smiling in a way he knew was a little too wide. He made his way to the dining room, not waiting for the stunned Brother.  
***  
Varric arrived half way through dinner and joined in. Hawke requested he join him, Fenris and Anders to see the Arishok. After having agreed to help with Evelina and the orphans he planned to visit the family in Darktown afterwards. He could perhaps find homes for some of them with his new connections. He left out that Evelina was a Mage which was wise considering some of the people at the table. 

Varric ventured that he might be able to find work for the older children and Merrill suggested that any young Elven might be welcome in her old clan, which had been wanting for children over the last few years. Even Sebastian said he could see about getting them to the Chantry or just supplies such as children’s clothing if needed. Though he addressed Hawke only as he spoke. 

Anders stole glances at Fenris as he tried the tart. His eyes widened a fraction and he was devouring it. Anders made to cut himself a small second piece and then put a large one on Fenris’s plate without a word. 

Afterwards, he packed up the bread from later and with a spring in his step he set off with Hawke and company to the Qunari compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In the language of flowers:  
> Jonquil - sorrow, I love you, please return my love  
> Wallflower - faithfulness in adversity  
> I could picture the language of flowers and other visual codes being used in various places in Thedis. Kristoff and Aura were from Orleis which has both a flamboyance and secretive culture of intrigue so the Language of Flowers fits in my head. For the same reasons in my head it would also be popular in Tevinter.  
> 2\. I’m borrowing from the Middle Ages here. They typically had 2 meals Dinner around midday and evening Supper. So dinner here is like our lunch. Nuncheons were snacks before or after dinner. Breakfast was typically only for those who performed physical labor. Breakfast and nuncheons were frown upon by the Church as indulgent but I imagine most everyone but Sebastian is ok with that.
> 
> So in my head Anders is the only companion who can cook decently and if anyone read ‘Caring for Feral Cats and other beasts’ I rather like Anders having his nurturing character come out in that way. 
> 
> The next chapter may require me to keep the smelling salts handy. I've only written one other story with any sexiness or even kissing before so wish me luck! It will definitely be M.


	10. What is Freely Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little questing about town and then some other... explorations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! I have been lacking so much sleep for other reasons but here is a nice big (for me) chapter. I have added some tags for this and future chapters so be aware of that. Comments and kudos keep the words flowing ^_^

Chapter 9: What is Freely Given

Hearing Fenris’s resonant tone speak Qunlat did things for Anders. Intelligence, especially regarding something for which Anders himself was ignorant, was always incredibly attractive. Unfortunately hearing from the Arishok that a greedy dwarf was running around with a deadly weapon he knew nothing about was just a bit distracting.

Varric had read his mind when he suggested looking to Darktown for clues as to the whereabouts of that rat Javaris. It was the most likely place to dig up information and they could stop to see Evaline while her plight was fresh in everyone’s mind.

As they made their way to the Undercity lift Hawke was in a cheerful mood despite the dire conversation they had just had.

“Anders, how did you get so good at cooking? You’d make someone a nice house wife”, Hawke grinned, his cheeks flushed in afternoon heat.

“My mother was of poor health so I helped with the housework. It reminds me of her. It’s sort of like healing too, nourishing those around you”, at how Hawke’s expression Anders felt badly about bringing up mothers. He forced cheerfulness and continued, “and when I was in the Circle I seemed to always be on kitchen duty for some mischief or another. I think they just liked the help down there sometimes. I would grouse but it didn’t really bother me much. Unfortunately fresh supplies were a bit lacking in a tower in the middle of a lake. So much bland mush, that in itself was enough reason to run. Bleh”. Anders made a face and Hawke laughed again.

They eventually found that dwarf’s assets were being sold off by a Coterie Barker and he was now hiding out in Smuggler’s Cut. Hawke surmised it was too late in the day to go after them and he would plan their next step carefully tomorrow. So they shuffled over to see Evelina and the kids.

Hawke chatted with Evelina and Varric talked with Walter and two other older children. Anders assessed Cricket again and made the little one laugh. It reminded him of trying to cheer up the little apprentices in the Tower. Children, mage or not, were delightful.

He felt eyes upon him and turned to see Fenris lurking. Before it would have annoyed him, he would have believed the elf with the blank expression thought himself above these people. Now though, Anders could see the uncertainty in his stance, the way he crossed his arms and gripped above the elbows a bit too tightly. How did he not see this awkwardness in the elf before? Anders supposed It was like everything else he had failed to notice in years since he had joined with Justice. Now being aware of it, he could not let it be.

“Fenris, would you come over here?”, Anders called out while he opened his bag and unwrapped two loaves of bread.

“Mage?”, the warrior said.

“Would you help me pass the bread around to the kids?”, Anders said with a warm smile and handed the elf a loaf and a knife. The elf didn’t actually smile like most people would but something subtly lifted in his expression and it felt the same to see.

When they were done the kids all had full bellies and a bit more hope than before. The entire situation warmed Anders’ heart.

“You give of yourself so freely. It must be gratifying, to be able to carry on what your mother taught you like this”, Fenris said as he watched the children. His manner was serene but there was something wistful about his tone.

“It is,” Anders answered. He was overcome by the horrible thought that perhaps the elf, being born to slavery, did not grow up with his mother like many of the apprentices. “I was taken at 12. My memories are faded but at least I have them”. Fenris turned sharply with a startled look but before he could say anything Anders hastily added, “I mean most in the circles are taken so young they don’t really have anything but a vague recollection of family since we aren’t allowed to see them ever again. We were sometimes allowed to write but even if someone in my family wanted to know if I was alive reading was not something of use where I was from. Nobody in my family could read. It was not a useful skill for farmers or shepards”.

Fenris smoothed his expression out just as Varric and Hawke walked over to join them.

“Well, I better head back to ‘The Hanged Man’ to write a bit while the conversation is still fresh in my head. My books don’t write themselves you know”, Varric said. “Will you be needing me tomorrow, Hawke?”

“I’ll sleep on it and swing by tomorrow if I do, alright?” Hawke replied.

“Sure Hawke”, replied Varric.

“Fenris, let’s walk back to Hightown together”, Hawke said while pointing the direction to the lift with his thumb.

Before Fenris could respond Anders cut in, “Actually I was hoping you might help in the clinic for a bit if that’s alright?”.

“I, that would be acceptable”, Fenris said and threw a questioning look at Hawke.

Hawke broke out in a wide grin and clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, “I’m glad you two are finally starting to get along. I was really worried there for a while”.

“Yes. Well, it’s getting late. Patients to see and all that. We better head off”, Anders said. Hawke gave his shoulder a squeeze and bid them farewell before he headed to the lift.

“Are you still planning to come to the mansion this evening?”, Fenris whispered.

“If I’m still welcome,‘ Anders replied. “I just want to do a quick check in on the clinic first”.

“It is you who are doing me the favor, Mage”, Fenris responded quietly as they walked to the clinic.

Anders swallowed the little bit of guilt he had about not telling the elf just how much he and Justice benefited from this arrangement.

‘Deception is unjust’, rumbled Justice.

‘It is necessary. He might let his fear of you interfere. Besides he gets a great benefit as well. It’s for the best. Trust me Justice’, Anders answered.

‘I can feel that you do not even trust yourself on this, but mortals are confusing creatures. If you think it will cause less harm, do as you will”, Justice said.

***

There were only a few Darktowners with minor illnesses and injuries to attend to so it was less than an hour before Anders went to snuff the lanterns. There was a familiar elven woman waiting there for him. Her hair was light brown with streaks of grey. Oh yes, she was with that human woman he had almost lost yesterday.

She smiled when she caught his eye, “Healer, you saved my Bonnie. I don’t know what I would do without her. We don’t have much, but please let me thank you with this”. She pushed a bundle wrapped in cheesecloth to him and hurried off as if afraid he would reject it. Based on his history, that was not an unfounded concern.

He walked back into the clinic and closed the door before he unwrapped the small bundle. There was a small jar inside. Holding it up to the light he realized it was honey with a bit of comb. Knowing he had saved the woman’s life, and that someone else would not be mourning over her was all that he really needed to do what he did here, but the gesture of appreciation made him smile. He re-wrapped the jar and tucked it in a pouch.

He looked around the Clinic, it was tidy and quiet. Fenris was performing one of his stretches towards the back. Anders had never met a warrior as flexible, rogues would be envious. How the elf could bend his leg like that was a mystery even to a healer and he found himself staring until said warrior turned to look at him.

“Are you ready to go?” asked Fenris, his head tilted slightly. He had been slightly more dour since this afternoon, and with Fenris that was saying something.

Anders felt his face heat up like a naughty apprentice caught mid prank. “Erm, yes. Let me just get my bag”. He squeezed his mother’s pillow which was sewn into a hiding spot in his coat, just to check it was still there. He always had a bag ready with a change of clothes, some coin, and a bit of food in case the templar’s or other assholes paid a visit.

“All set.” he said as he emerged from his little room but before he opened the door to the clinic he paused. “Fenris, I upset you earlier. Why”?

Fenris looked away with a frown, “It does not matter. I thought a moment Hawke had shared something I said in confidence. Forget it.”

“Alright”, Anders said slowly but only had more questions screaming in his head now.

He did not dwell long on them. The walk along the dark streets to Hightown had Anders increasingly anxious as they came closer to their destination.

***  
Anders had been chattering nervously the whole walk here but now he found he could think of nothing to say. The mansion was still a ruin. Fenris had entered his chambers just a moment ago but Anders waited in the dim entrance hall at the warrior’s behest.

The mage was too on edge to stay still. He busied himself with investigating the broken furnishings at first, but splintered wood and shredded portraits held little interest. He felt marginally better when a shattered mirror fragment let him check that the kohl he had put on was still in place. It was strange the little bit of black around his eyes made him feel almost protected, as if it were some sort of talisman instead of decoration.He smoothed out his ever unruly hair and poked about looking into adjoining doors. Hallways, closets, a sitting room. Oh, a door to the kitchen, that’s more like it.

The kitchen here was dismal as the rest of the place, which was a shame because it seemed to be a wonderful set up. The hearth was large but filled only with cold ashes. There was dwarven plumbing with a water pump in the kitchen and- Andraste's tender toes! There was a private oven. Though filled with spider webs, it was not damaged. Anders sighed at the lack of use.

He spied a dented kettle in the corner and after rinsing it he sent a small fireball to light the hardwood remnants in the hearth and set the kettle on the hook. The flames were dancing wild but it was only hot water he was after.

“Making yourself at home I see”, Fenris said with an amused inflection. He stood in the door, the firelight dancing shadows across his handsome face. He had removed his cuirass and gauntlets leaving him in a simple under tunic and leggings. Fenris was the tallest and by far the strongest elf he had ever met, but without the wicked, spiky armor he looked far less intimidating, almost softer. It calmed Anders a bit.

“I just put a kettle on. I thought a bit of tea with supper would be nice if that’s alright with you”, Anders said.

“As you like Mage. Join me upstairs when you are ready,” Fenris said before withdrawing from the room as silently as a cat on the prowl.

The room Fenris kept for himself was mostly clean and almost cozy if you ignored the dark glass shards sparkling in the fireplace and spider webs. Anders had found a teapot without a lid and a pair of cups to serve the tea in. He used a small knife to flake off some leaves from his packs tea brick and set it to steep while they both ate the hand pies Fenris had warmed on the grate in the fireplace.

“We should talk. I am both surprised and grateful you are willing to do this but I do not wish to again cause you harm or distress.” Fenris said.

Anders swallowed his mouthful of tea in that uncomfortably hard way one does when thinking about it.

“I think we can manage that. We’ll agree on an area to try, if I say stop you stop. That should cover most of it. If you don’t I will be teaching an elf to suck my fireballs tonight,” Anders said which earned a sharp huff of a laugh from said elf. “As far as my, ah, reaction, just don’t hold it against me. We can try to find less stimulating areas but that may not work out. If it is too upsetting for you you can leave and I can, you know, take care of it,” Anders rambled and made a crude gesture with his hand.

“That won’t be necessary unless privacy would be best for you. It is not upsetting, it is only your body’s reaction. It is not your fault or shame”, Fenris said with a firm conviction. It felt like there was a story behind that, a horrible story. Anders had no idea how to respond.

“Thank you”, replied Anders because it was all he could think to say, “do you have any concerns?”

Fenris looked into the glow of the smoldering logs for a moment before he answered. “I have told you before, these markings have hurt me for as long as I can remember. It has always made even the lightest of touches painful. At the tavern you grabbed my hand. I would not wish to react badly and hurt you”, Fenris said. He looked as if he expected a reproach.

“Maker, that is appalling”, Anders said, taken aback. He thought back on how sensitive the elf had been in the kitchen earlier this afternoon. He hadn’t seemed in pain then but what if he had misread the situation? “I’m sorry. Did I, did I cause you pain then? Or this afternoon when we were cooking?” Anders asked in dismay. Fenris turned to look at the flustered blond. His eye flicked to Anders face but turned back down to the floor in an instant. Anders was struck by how often the elf did that. Why did he do that?

“No, it was fine. It was intriguing to be touched without pain,” said Fenris, “The expectation of pain, I don’t know if I could ever rid myself of it. I’m afraid I might be startled into hurting you, especially if I were in you at the time”.

That phrasing made Anders' stomach flip, but the elf seemed unaware of his slip of the tongue.

“Well, let’s get rid of the pain and then you can work on that. You make a good point though, this strange touch you have makes a strange drunkenness come over me. I’m a handsy drunk. I don’t trust I could control myself in such a state, even with such a risk. Let me think a minute”, Anders said with a frown. He eyed his healers pack. An idea blossomed in his mind. It was a terrible idea, but it just might work. He opened the pack and pulled out two rolls of bandages and cords he used to bind splints. He felt a great smile pulling at his face. Fenris looked confused by the sudden change in his demeanor.

Anders sprung to his feet and walked over the bed to see if it would fit the plan he was forming. Yes. It was a large bed with a wooden frame and ornately carved headboard, but the important thing was there were posts.

“Why are you looking at my bed?”, Fenris asked as he followed.

“Well, I’m not going to have you do it to me standing again. Where else would I be? Sprawled out on the writing desk? At your foot by the fireplace like a Mabari?” Anders returned flippantly.

“No, of course not. The bed is fine”, Fenris said quickly, “I’m afraid to ask, but what are you thinking?”

Anders presented the bandages and cords. “You are going to tie my wrists to the bed posts,” Anders said cheerfully.

“Fenhedis!” Fenris looked aghast, “Have you gone mad?! How can you even think of such a thing, especially after what I, I mean, won’t you be afraid in that position? I don’t want to...”

There was a delightful sort of satisfaction bubbling within Anders at getting such a strong reaction from the stoic warrior. The confusion was so much better than rage but Anders interrupted the warrior. “You have for once in your life actually forgotten that I am a Mage. These aren’t enchanted manacles and I have plenty of mana. Ropes and bandages can not truely restrain me, it just takes a bit of concentration to undo. They will only be a suggestion to keep my hands to myself, a reminder to my addled mind”. He tried to smile reassuringly.

“ I do not like it Mage”, Fenris said while staring at the bed grimmy.

“If I say stop, you will stop, right?”, Anders said.

Fenris let out a long, resigned breath and gave a curt nod. “Very well,” he said solemnly.

“Shall we get started then? I was thinking we should try further away from my heart since my thigh was less intense. Perhaps a hand or a foot?” Anders said as he began unbuckling his coat.

“As you wish. I am going to get some wine.” Fenris said quietly.

“Not too much now, there will be no poking around in my insides drunk,”Anders tried to lighten the mood. Fenris gruffed something unintelligible and did not even slow his pace as he left the room.

Anders removed his coat, shirt, socks, and heavy boots which was a relief. He conjured water and wiped away the day's sweat from his body, dabbing just a bit of his oil. The fire had been warm, but his nerves heated him more. He quickly put on his fresh shirt from his journey pack. He wiggled his bare toes on the cold stones of the floor. He had just started unfastening his belt when Fenris returned.

”What are you doing?” Fenris asked, clearly alarmed.

Without stopping Anders answered calmly, ”Taking off my trousers. This is my last pair of clean, dry ones thanks to you and I’m not going to mess these ones up too.”

A hand on his shoulder halted him, just as he had gotten the lacing undone. He looked up, but the elf was once again not meeting his eyes and instead turned to look down and to the side at the cluster of candles burning a waxy mess on the floor near the head of the bed. A long ear stuck out starkly from his snowy locks. Even in the dim candlelight the dark flush of his ear was apparent. It was ridiculous that he had once thought the warrior unfeeling, he was just so adorably shy.

“Fenris? ” Anders questioned with concern as the elf remained silent, “I have my smallclothes, you’ve seen me in less before. Are you, well?” He tentatively placed a hand over the elf’s hand on his shoulder.

At the touch of his hand Fenris’s gaze snapped up, but his bright eyes still would not meet Anders’,“I am fine. You will tell me if you are uncomfortable”.

“Probably loudly and in great detail, elf”, Anders answered with a grin.

It earned a snort of a laugh from the elf which seemed to surprise Fenris himself.

“Of that I have no doubt Mage”, Fenris said. Whatever dark mood had overtaken him seemed to have passed. He removed his hand from Anders shoulder and went to retrieve the chair from the writing desk while Anders returned to doffing his garments.

“I get talkative and handsy when drunk so don’t kill me for talking like a fool”, Anders said.

“I haven’t yet,” Fenris shot back .

“Oh Ha Ha. I walked right into that one, like Hawke into a doorframe”, Anders said grinning back.

You get mouthier when drunk but bite through your lip to be quiet when you peak. I wonder which will win out?” Fenris mused. “Remember, don’t hurt yourself. You can be as loud as you like”.

Fenris used his uncanny ability to remove the cork and took a long gulp directly from the bottle as he sat down in the chair. He never looked quite settled as he sat, always giving the impression of a cat ready to pounce.

Anders hastily stripped off his pants and crawled up the bed to sit against the headboard, silently thanking the Maker he remembered to wear his best linen smalls. He was also glad he thought to clean and pack his new tunic. With the laces undone and sleeves rolled up he was able to remain cool and expose areas that may be helpful in their endeavor while still being able to keep his back covered. Anders was not shy about his body, you really could not be when you were made to share a dormitory in the tower, but his back led to questions he really didn’t want to think about. Even when they were out on the coast he would keep a shirt on unless he was able to seclude himself from the group. When Fenris had approached him on the beach it was hard to say if he was more concerned about the elf catching sight of the mess over his crotch or the scars on his back.

Anders wrapped the bandages around his wrist and started working the cords in cats’ paw knots around one of the metal hoops from his coat. He looked over at the elf. ”Well, are you going to help me here? I can make the knots but you’ll need to secure them.” Anders said matter of factly, as if they were discussing putting together a tent while following Hawke around the coast instead of tying himself to a surly elf’s bed.

Said elf stood, took one long pull from his wine bottle and held it out to Anders. Wine was not typically Anders' choice of drink but he was not about to refuse an offer from Fenris. It almost felt ceremonial, this exchange. He took the bottle offered and swallowed a few mouthfuls, the astringency was not as biting as he was expecting.

“You are very... proficient at that”, Fenris said wryly while looking at the knotwork.

Anders laughed a bit. “A bit. It's very practical. I picked up a little here and there. Isabela showed me most of them, ‘as a pirate many different kinds of knots are useful to her and she also likes them for ‘naughty’ times.” Anders quickly added,” It was just something useful I could do to keep my hands busy. If you look, my coat is covered in different knots.”

Anders held up the cord he was working on. “Now, this knot I actually learned in Denerim when I was on the run for the 6th time”, said Anders.

“You were at that brothel Isabela recalls fondly”, Fenris said with obvious distaste.

‘Andraste’s knicker weasels! I do not want that little secret getting out’, Anders silently screamed.

Bela had almost let his little secret slip to Hawke years ago when they first started galavanting around Kirkwall together. Thankfully Varric had changed the subject. The Dwarf knew how to keep a secret and wasn’t judgy like some people. He very much did not want to deal with the scorn but especially the pity. Only a few days ago he would have placed money on Fenris being an asshole about it, but now he suspected he would be in on the pity party.

‘ _You will not do that again Anders_ ’, Justice’s voice sounded clear and firm in his head.

‘No, I will not. It was my choice then but it holds no appeal now. I was hurting and wanted the distraction and the control. I only took on Sanga's 'special' work when I felt like it and could always just shoot lightning at any fool who got out of line. I know you don’t understand my friend, but it wasn’t like what happened after. It was like how I was before Karl’, Anders thought sadly. ‘Now be quiet and let me concentrate a minute’. Anders forced a relaxed smile on himself. The truth was always the best deception.

“Hey now, stop looking at me like that. It was honest work. There isn’t a lot of that for a Circle mage on the run and it almost got me the coin I needed for a ship's passage here before the Templars caught up with me. Of course I always had the option of throwing lightning bolts at any fools. I guess you could say I was one of Pearl's little ‘Surprises’ ”. Andraste’s Sword, some of that still brought a smile to his face, especially that time he conjured up utter confusion with the flower pots and scarecrows. Sanga was impressed with that one, said she’d keep using it.

“You...worked in a brothel?”, Fenris said, his deep voice oddly clipping in surprise.

Anders put on his biggest shit eating grin and said, “Still do. I go to ‘The Rose’ every other week to treat the workers there. It’s not as good a place for them as the Pearl, but I have a skill and perform a service for a fee, the same as they do. They are just people, trying to get by in this shithole city,” Anders’ grin dropped and he added reproachfully, “You shouldn’t look down on them for it”.

“I do not, not them,” Fenris said quickly and after a pause added quietly, “The concept of flesh for sale in any way is unsettling to me”.

‘ _The elf is correct Anders_ ’, Justice resounded clearly in his head.

“Ah, well that’s understandable”, Anders replied nodding.

Anders ignored the elf’s uneasy look and his own odd twinge of guilt, his charade had worked. It was good to be able to bullshit his way out of things again.

‘ _Deceit is unjust_ ’, grumble in the back of his mind.

‘I told no lies, some truths are private, only for those you trust. Just because you get to see all my dark secrets doesn’t mean everyone deserves my confidence. Now hush’, Anders retorted silently to the Spirit.

“So do you still have any pain free areas?” Anders said in his healer’s voice, changed the subject.

“My right hand, to just above the elbow”, Fenris answered curtly.

“We’ll track the progress, hopefully we can get you pain free tonight”, Anders said, trying to sound hopeful. He put the cord loops on the bed posts and pushed his hands through the loose loops. “Alright, now tighten those up and tie the ends to the ring.”

“I still don’t enjoy tying you up,” Fenris said gloomily but did as he was bid.

“Really? I would have thought it would be a recurrent daydream for you, possibly followed with tossing me off something high or a thrashing,” Anders teased.

“I think everyone who has met you must fantasize about gagging you”, Fenris said dryly.

Anders laughed,“There are better ways to get me to shut up”.

Fenris only huffed in reply.

“It’ll be fine. A little tighter, ouch! Ease off. Maker, you are strong.”Anders directed.

“If it’s ‘just a suggestion’ why must it be so tight?”, Fenris asked.

“If you're going to do something, do it right. Alright, that’s good. I guess now the question is hand or foot? A foot would be the farthest from my head but my hand is secure. You want to try that?” Anders asked while he tested the cords.

“If the foot is a better option we start there. Securing your foot will not be a problem, Mage”, Fenris said and moved to the foot of the bed. He would not look Anders in the eye but he could feel the elf’s gaze on his body.

Being tied up had never really excited Anders more than a passing curiosity, he was usually the one doing the tying if it was being done at all, but there was something delicious in being center in the intense elf’s focus. Anders had expended so much energy trying to get attention when he was young, from all sorts of people. So now being under such direct scrutiny made his pulse quicken and his breath come quick. A hand clasped his ankle firmly and he inhaled sharply.

“Human feet are so strange and soft. Sensitive,” Fenris’s voice itself was soft in distraction but lifted in humor at the last word. A deft finger traced light and quick along Anders’ arch. He laughed uncontrollably and automatically tried to pull his foot away but he could not break the warriors vice grip.

“Ticklish!” Anders gasped, “Stop that!”

The finger stopped immediately, replaced by a thumb digging in with firm pressure just above his heel. Oh, he had not realized how sore he was there. He stifled a moan.

“Is this a good place to start Mage?” Fenris’s voice was amused, like a cat who had a mouse pinned.

‘Maker’s balls’, Anders swallowed. His face felt aflame and it felt like his smalls were becoming tight around his loins. The linen would not hide anything. What if Fenris noticed? How could he not? That idea and the embarrassment it inspired actually added to his arousal. Anders cursed himself to the void and back again. Best to get started so he could blame his state on the strange reaction.

“Do it”, Anders said curtly.

Fenris sunk his thumb into his foot. He was not prepared for the intensity of unearthly rapture shooting up the length of his body like a lightning strike. When he could focus his eyes again Fenris was hovering above, exuding anxiety with those subdued mannerisms of his, but that stopped quickly as Anders began to smile like a punch drunk fool. Justice was lost in his ‘song’ and a familiar warmth was pooling in his smalls.

“I’m alright. I guess my theory about the distance was wrong,” Anders huffed a laugh as he huffed for air.

Fenris glanced down at the linen which had darkened with dampness with a raised eyebrow, “That was quick. I’ll untie you”. He started reaching for the binding on Anders' wrist.

“”Wait”, said Anders, ”Where are you pain free now?”

Fenris halted, hand resting over Anders' wrist, and said, “My upper back, it almost reaches my other shoulder.”

“Try the outside of my thigh,” Anders said quickly.

“You’re spent”, Fenis said incredulously.

Anders laughed, giddy and breathless. “I spent, once. That’s nothing from what I’ve heard from my old comrades. Void it, you pushed me far further the other night. I’ve never tested Warden stamina in that way, but it seems my friends weren’t lying. Although, if we do this right it shouldn’t come to that. Let’s try areas that aren’t very sensitive, outer thighs, knee caps, elbows.”

“You are serious?”, Fenris asked. His face was relaxed but his ears were burning brighter than ever. Anders wanted to touch them and was both annoyed at and grateful for his bindings.

“I’m Anders. I’m a healer and a Warden. I’ve escaped Templars, saved countless lives, been taken bodily into the fade, and fought broodmothers with the bloody Hero of Fereldan. I can handle getting felt up and aroused by a ridiculously handsome elf”.

The elf stared at him, inscrutable for a moment. Then a hand was resting on his thigh.

“Ridiculously handsome?”, Fenris asked with a corner of his mouth turned up just slightly.

“Oh stop you. You know you’re gorgeous. Water is wet and Fenris is as handsome as he is deadly. I’m getting all drunk on your touch and running my mouth. Just take what you want, what is freely offered to you Fenris,” Anders rambled.

“Very well,'' Fenris said softly, looking down at his hand on Anders’ thigh. Oh. Perhaps the elf didn’t realize just how handsome he was after all.

Anders did not have long to consider it as just then Fenris’s finger slipped into him. It was far less intense but still caused Anders to gasp in surprise.

“Is this more manageable?” Fenris's voice was soft and rich as velvet.

“Y-y-yes,” Anders stammered. “Try the muscle of my shoulder now”. The tantalizing sensation was gone before reappearing a bit stronger. Anders closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply.

“This is acceptable?” Fenris questioned.

“Yes”, Anders whispered,”Now put your other hand in my thigh, all the fingers. Maker, that sounded so strange”.

“Are you sure about this, you-” Fenris started.

“Just do it. I’ll be fine and you’ll feel better faster, just don’t wiggle them around”, Anders interrupted. Fenris quietly complied.

There was a thrumming connection between the two points. The harmonized in a song not meant for mortal men. Pleasure pulsed to it’s rhythm in steady waves throughout his body. It took all of his concentration not to moan and writhe from it. Though it had been a matter of minutes, he was again fully aroused in his already sodden smalls.

When he could trust himself to speak intelligibly he choked out, “how’s the pain?”

“It’s reached my hips. I-I’ve never felt like this before. My body feels not quite my own, insubstantial without the constant pain”, Fenris replied dreamily.  
“We’ll, ah, ah, oh”, Anders paused for another wave pleasure to roll over him,” we’ll work on that after. Just, tell me when I get you to your knees”, Anders could not keep a needy keen from escaping.

“Whose getting who to their knees?” Fenris asked with the closest thing to a lighthearted grin Anders had ever seen on his dark face.

Anders hiccuped a laugh. “That’s one w-w-way, oh Maker! To enjoy the lack of pain,” Anders was panting. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip hard between his teeth reflexively. The familiar taste of blood, salty.

The harmony was broken, no longer emanating from his thigh. Instead a warm, calloused hand cradled Anders cheek and a thumb gently pulled down at his abused lip.

“Don’t hurt yourself Mage. I told you you may be as loud as-’, Fenris halted what he was saying with a small gasp of surprise which Anders found pleasing. The elf had been effective in stopping him from further damaging his lip, but Anders had captured the elf’s thumb in its place and was currently sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it. Anders wonders what other sounds he could pull from the stoic warrior with just his mouth.

“Mage. Mage! Anders”, Fenris said, “should I stop?”

Anders pulled off, licking his lips, and gazed up at the elf,“I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. If you keep going I will peak.“He looked away, “I need to release one way or another. If you untie me I can take care of it”. Anders felt like a thread about to snap under tension.

The hand at his cheek gently prodded him to turn back. Fenris was hunched over looking at him directly in the eyes through his snowy fringe. His face was a cool mask, calm as Lake Calenhad under the midnight moons. It sent just as much of a shiver of gooseflesh down Anders' spine as those chill waters.

“Tell me what you want Mage. I need to hear you say you want it”, Fenris said with his deep, resonant tone. It was soothing without a drop of malice.

“I want it. Please. Please touch me”, Anders immediately responded. Just admitting it brought it’s own small relief.

The elf removed the fingers in his shoulder and Anders whined. The hand on his face continued to cradle him, thumb rubbing back and forth across Anders' lip in a soothing manner. With his now unoccupied hand, Fenris grasped one of Anders’ bound hands.

“Take what is freely given to you, Anders”, Fenris said and sunk his glowing hand into Anders’ larger one.

Ecstasy coursed through him. He lost any sense of his body beyond the raw overwhelming pleasure. Justice felt light, a golden, fluffy twilight cloud. Anders' mind was a perfect sunshower. When he came back to himself he was aware of fingers carding through his hair. Anders smiled lazily. It had been ages since he was touched so gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Evelina story in game was upsetting to me, especially with her living so near to Anders for so long. Two apostates in Darktown should have each others back. 
> 
> I am curious what others might think of my writing Anders' as having worked at the Pearl. The idea hit me while writing this chapter and it just seemed like it fit his younger wildness. 
> 
> The only other story I've wrote with so much as kissing or hand holding is Caring for Feral Cats so I was nervous writing the sexy bits here. I must note that they have not, as of yet kissed. Yet Fenris had made Anders orgasm how many times? Muhahaha.
> 
> Next chapter will be Fenris POV
> 
> I changed the rating from M to E but I'm not thinking this particular chapter qualifies that, perhaps it is aspirational? Pardon me while I go blush myself into a faint trying to work up the nerve.


	11. Touch Can Be Tricky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris's POV so angst about touching Anders and he deals a bit with the lack of (physical) pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. Well it has been a tough week. 4 hours of sleep a night has been my BEST night so this chapter may need a rework sometime.
> 
> Warning: This chapter contain PTSD, intrusive thoughts/flashbacks to abuse, alcohol use, and panic attack

Chapter 11: Touch Can Be Tricky

The heavy oaken bed frame creaked as Anders thrashed against his bonds and arched his pale, lean frame. The human had a remarkable level of physical strength for a mage. The display he made was mesmerizing. Fenris was aware of all this in his periphery but focused intently on the human’s face for any sign or distress. 

Fenris had unintentionally brought the man through the release he had badly needed but directly into another urgent state of arousal. He twice stained undergarments once again barely covered the human’s impressive erection. Not wanting to over-stimulate the strung out man again, Fenris now traced a single finger within the man’s hand from wrist to the human’s finger tips. 

Anders fluctuated between shouting and unintelligible whispers. Fenris’s keen ear for patterns noticed there was repetition and cadence to the utterances. It sounded like another language entirely, guttural and harsh between the panting and raw screams,  _ “ _ Sogutsogutsogut... Du singst so schön.... Schöpfer! Hör nicht auf, schöner Elfenmann. Sie singen. Schöpfer! ...Bitte bitte bitte... 1 ” 

Most of it blurred together in it’s unfamiliarity, but there were words that jumped out to him for their similarities to common: Elfenmann, sogut, and sing something. Anders had said something odd about him singing before when, dazed from similar stimulation, he had collapsed into Fenris’s arms in the back halls of the Tavern. Curious. 

Fenris found he did not mind the Mage’s verbosity on this occasion. As the human spoke his jaw moved in Fenris’s hand. The scruff prickled. It was an interesting sensation.

The human’s brown eyes widened before they illuminated in that uncanny cold blue glow and he shut them tightly as his body arched once again in release. His lower lip was darkened by his own blood which Fenris had been smearing back and forth over it while he blocked the Mage from injuring himself further. 

Having failed to silence himself, the Mage moaned deeply. He was as loud as Fenris had expected now that his self injurious method to silence himself was blocked by Fenris’s own thumb.The blond made a desperate attempt to shake it but Fenris just pressed it deeper in past his teeth to rub the pad on the soft tongue until the human calmed from his violent release. 

Fenris drew out his finger from within the human’s hand, but continued tracing along the pale palm’s surface. The Mage’s hands were stronger than any other Mage hands Fenris had known with calluses from physical labor as well as writing. They were large, with long fingers, Fenris’s hands only reached the third knuckle when he lay their hands flush together. 

Anders began sucking at Fenris’s thumb again, mouth human-hot and tongue lithe despite the man’s listless appearance. That was distracting. Fenris extracted it and resumed his guard over the abused lower lip as the man’s hot breath slowly evened out. 

The man opened his unfocused eyes. All traces of the otherworldly blue were thankfully gone and the candlelight made them look like burnished gold to match his hair. Long limbs which had been straining a moment ago were now relaxed and sprawling. His tunic had hiked up revealing a pale belly with a line of dark gold running from navel down to disappear into freshly stained linen undergarments. The man was undeniably attractive though obviously too thin for his frame despite his musculature. His ribs just a bit too prominent for a human as his belly moved in time to his breath. 

Seeing the human in such a debauched state stirred up conflicting feelings for the elf. Even though the physicality of what he was doing was unlike any skill he had honed to please his former master, the shadows of his past still made self-disgust twist unpleasantly in his gut. He had never engaged in intimacy with another as a free man, even avoided the act of self pleasure lest it bring up memories of Teventer, of Danarius. He would usually perform training exercises when his body was inclined to such activities. 

He had never thought he would willingly bring another mage to release, let alone this particular mage who advocated endlessly for the madness of ‘Mage Rights’ and ran around proudly in a coat obviously converted from outdated Teventer robes. Yet now the air of his bedroom was heavy with the scent of male human sex and the most annoying mage in Thedas was tied to his bed completely undone. 

There was a certain satisfaction to having rendered the Mage into such a state, to see the man get so flustered as he tented his linen undergarments after barely having been touched. Learning to manipulate a person's body could be more dangerous than learning a new weapon.

There was an alluring power in it. Perhaps that was what unsettled Fenris most of all. Bloodlust and revenge he could embrace but to enjoy such things in bed? He did not know his own desires and feared finding them twisted by the seemingly never ending wellspring of hate he had in his heart. As he looked down at the bound man he could not help but recall the dark impulse he had felt standing over the same man on the battlefield only a few days ago. It was a relief to find he felt no desire to tear the Mage’s heart out. Instead he felt compelled to continue taking the human apart in this unnatural way. The mage’s reaction elicited a hunger in him and that in turn a new sort of guilt. 

The bindings were disturbing to Fenris, but Anders could easily free himself by magic. He repeated the Healer’s words in his mind: ‘Just take what you want, what is freely offered to you Fenris’. The clear words of permission were a balm to him.

It was a marvel to be pain free for the first time in his recollection. His muscles tingled with released tension, feeling loose. The release was heady, a gentle euphoria. He had the Mage to thank for this. His willingness to help was wholly unexpected, especially considering how he had wronged the human. Fenris could now see what the others saw in the man. It was not often that his assessment of a person required adjusting so drastically. He was annoying and as an abomination especially dangerous, but he was also extremely, absurdly kind. Fenris was used to clear cut opinions on people. These contradictory feelings he now had for the man did not sit well. 

He did what he always did when feelings became intense, buried them under a veneer of calm. It did not matter what he was feeling for as long as he could hide it he felt detached, safe. The feelings held distant by his outward control. He moved with calm precision, hyper aware of his body. He could ignore feelings, as he had ignored the pain of his markings for so long. Doing so was a matter of survival. Ignoring the arousal between his legs was simple in comparison. 

He removed his hands from the Mage. The blond still looked disoriented and appeared distressed by the loss of contact. How long was he like this the other night? Fenris should have asked but would guard him through it regardless of the length of time.

The Mage rambled again in that strange tongue, his softened voice made the clipped quality to the speech sound bouncing and cheerful instead of harsh, “Bitte berühre mich. Fenris, lass mich dich küssen, dich lutschen, was auch immer du willst. Bitte lass mich dich küssen. Bitte 2 ”. Hearing the Mage say his name in that tone sent a strange thrill through him. He focused on the foreign words that followed his name ‘lass mich dich küssen, dich lutschen’.

Fenris had no experience in being comforting. Tentatively he brushed his fingers through the man’s loose locks. They slipped through his fingers, as silky and fine as they looked. The sensation unmarred by pain was tantalizing and it seemed to calm the human who closed his eyes and nuzzled into the contact. Fenris continued. 

“Mage, are you well?”, the elf asked quietly. 

The blond opened his eyes. The honey hue was enhanced by the dark lining the Mage had recently taken to wearing. They were focused on Fenris now, captivating him. Eye contact was not permitted of slaves to the free citizens of Tevinter and it was still uncomfortable for Fenris, especially with humans. The intensity of it sped his heart rate faster than anything else this evening. Fenris averted his eyes, looking instead at his fingers tangled in red gold.

“Fenris?” the drowsy Mage said “That feels nice. How are you feeling?” 

“You are the one bleeding, again. I told you not to injure yourself”, Fenris chided and removed his hand from the Mage’s mane. He hunched in such a way that his loose undershirt would hide his oddly persistent arousal. 

“Hmm,” the Mage’s sucked his lower lip then his pink tongue darted out to lick at the blood on his lips,”it’s not so bad, I will heal it up in a minute” Anders looked down “Andraste's flaming knickers, I am a mess” he exclaimed “untie me so I can clean myself up.” 

“Of course”, Fenris moved quickly to undo the bindings.

“Did it work? Is the pain gone?” Anders asked as Fenris leaned over him to untie his far hand. The Mage’s heated breath puffed across Fenris’s throat. It made the short hairs on the nap of Fenris’s neck stand up. 

“I am-, I do not know how to describe it. There is no pain but my body feels odd, like it is not quite my own without it”, Fenris answered.

“We expected as much from what happened with your arm, right? It will just take a bit of time to adjust. I was thinking it may be the same as treating some poorly healed injuries when sensation is returning. Touch can be tricky. I have a few ideas though”, Anders said.”Do you have a Dwarven bath here like at Hawke’s?” Anders asked as he undid the bandages on his wrists.

“Yes. The heating system is broken, but you are welcome to make use of it”, Fenris answered.

Anders laughed, “I’ll take you up on that another time. I meant for you. The pressure of the water may help with the sensation changes.” 

“I will try it later,” Fenris answered.

“If you do it now before I head out the heat won’t be a problem” Anders said. Elemental fire swirled around his hands for an instant. What once would have been a painful sensation akin to a branding lacing through the lyrium markings was now merely a pleasant warmth.

Something of surprise must have been betrayed in his face, for the flames extinguished immediately, “What happened?” asked the Mage.

“It is nothing”, Fenris said brusquely. “I’ll leave you to clean up in privacy. I will prepare the tub for a bath as you advise” Fenris withdrew from the room quickly.

Fenris filled the large stone tub with cold water from the dwarven pipes. As he watched the water rise his thoughts grew gloomy with doubts. When the tub was filled Fenris stopped pumping and just stared at the water's surfaces as it calmed.

There was a whistle from the doorway. “This is quite the set up. I will definitely be taking you up on that offer. Perhaps after the next time Hawke pulls me out to go tromping around the bloody Wounded Coast again”, Anders said with a lazy grin. Candlelight flashed off his white teeth. He stood with arms crossed leaning against the door frame, one leg bent at the knee and crossed the other so only the toe rested on the stone floor. He wore new trousers but the same tunic. 

“How can you be so casual after…”,Fenris faltered in his speech. He tugged at the neckline of his tunic, the wool was scratchier than he could remember. 

Anders pushed off the door frame and walked over to Fenris bedside the tub with a bemused look. The scent of sex wafted of of him along with elfroot and new oil he had taken to wearing. “After what? Orgasms are rather relaxing, I highly recommend them. I'm surprised I’m not still passed out on your bed after three so close together though. Warden stamina is a beautiful thing after all”.

“Your body’s reactions to violation are not your fault”, Fenris said morosely. 

“Violation? What are you going on about? Did you miss the part where I was practically begging? Wait.” Anders held his hand up when Fenris went to respond and ran a hand back through the loose hair gripping it at the crown on his head with a thoughtful look. He seemed to settle on something as he let his arm drop and sighed. “We were trying to do this without working me up like that but didn’t work out that way. I knew that might be the case going in and I accepted that. This was not like what you did at ‘The Hanged Man’ and there was no ‘violation’ tonight. Is this about... You said you’ve had blood magic used against you like this. I won’t pry, but you did not do that tonight. I was willing”. 

Fenris sat on the ledge of the tub, hunched over with elbows on knees looking at the cracks between the stones of the floor. The fridge of his hair tickled in a way he never noticed before. “I was willing then too but not by choice, if that makes any sense”, Fenris replied darkly.

The silence stretched between them. The dripping of residual water from the pump echoed. Anders sat down beside him. 

“I’m sorry Fenris. It does make sense”, the Mage said softly,”I know we don’t usually understand each other, but this, this is something I do understand.” 

After a moment Fenris responded.“It is hard for me to imagine being willing to do what you just did for me. I know I would not if the situation were reversed.” The admission felt heavy, “You are kind, perhaps foolishly so, but very kind.”

“A compliment from Fenris, my goodness, will wonders never cease?” Anders' voice held some cheer in it,” though this is not the first you’ve called me a fool and I doubt it will be the last”.

“True enough Mage”, Fenris said and felt the gloom lifting.

“Well then, how about I get this bath heated up? Healer’s orders,” the human winked and grinned encouragingly. 

“Very well,” said the elf, content to watch the human while he was occupied. 

Anders rolled up his sleeves and leant over the tub, and plunged his flame encased hands under the water where they continued to burn. The loose golden locks which fell down around him like a curtain glowed red and he hummed something blithely as he worked. The warmth that course over his body as the Mage used elemental fire to heat the water did not surprise him this time. The warmth he felt in watching Anders did.

An idea occurred to Fenris. He smirked and leaned over to whisper, “Mage, lass mich dich küssen, dich lutschen.”

Anders lost his balance and fell forward, partially into the tub with hands braced on the bottom of the pool and rump displayed on the ledge. He scrambled back with a soaked tunic clinging to his frame. That impossible scare over his heart was visible as the water’s weight pulled the fabric down. The mage’s chest was flushed to match his face. 

“Andraste’s knicker weasels! I thought we agreed you wouldn’t hold such things against me,” Anders sputtered.

“I do not hold it against you. What language is it?”, Fenris asked.

“It’s Ander”, said the Mage sharply while trying to wring out his tunic without taking it off. He was such an odd man. Then Anders smirked. “Just so you know, I used to be amazing at pranks and you just through a gauntlet elf. Though I suppose a wet shirt does become a handsome man”. Fenris privately agreed.

“Hmmm”. Fenris intoned, then in a deadpan added ”Wait. Your name is Anders and you speak Ander.”

“Not very imaginative, right? Sometimes I think Varric’s ‘Blondie’ is better”, answered Anders distractedly.

“Regardless, it has a pleasant sound to it.” Fenris said.

When he was finished with the tunic Anders looked back up at Fenris with a wide, mischievous smile. “You don’t want to know what it means?” 

His lip was still injured. Fenris felt himself frown, “your lip is still mangled, fix it Mage”.

The blond looked surprised for a moment. “Oh yes, I had forgotten”. He placed a finger on his lip and a green glow emanated from his hand. The pleasant tingling sensation this particular magic used to produce had intensified. His body hummed along the lyrium lines and gooseflesh covered his body.

“Alright, that’s the second time you’ve acted odd when I cast. What is it?” the Mage said.

“It’s nothing”, Fenris said shortly.

“Andraste’s ass it’s nothing”, Anders shot back, “tell me”.

Fenris glowered, ”may I bathe in peace Mage?”

“Oh, fine, fine you prickly prick. You looked like someone put snow down your tunic but don't tell your Healer. I’m sure that won’t backfire spectacularly at some point”, Anders groused as he got up to leave.

“Mage”, Fenris said to his retreating back. 

The Blond head turned back to look at him.“Elf?” he said.

“Thank you,” Fenris said simply. The smile Anders beamed at him before he left should not have affected a warm curl of happiness in the warrior the way it did. 

***

The hot water eased the ache from muscles which had been tensed for far too long. At first Fenris moved in large arcs so that the water felt heavy against him with a sense of wonderment. He swished his hair around feeling the drag on the scalp. Next he splashed about like a giddy child revealing the tickling turbulence. It had displaced much of the water from the tub but cared void all about that.

Now though, he lay his head back against the ledge and let his body be still except to allow his hands to trail over it. It was like the first time after the mishap in battle, he could not seem to stop touching and marveling over every inch of his newly pain free body. He rubbed at the muscles on top of his thighs then gently explored the soft spots behind his knees. The trouble was all the attention had reawakened his erection. Without the distraction of pain it was far more stubborn.

Fenris sighed, relaxed his legs in the tub, and brought a hand to card through his hair. His other hand rested on his belly, lightly caressing up and down the line just above his navel.

He remembered the Mage’s breathless resort as he teased him earlier: “That’s one w-w-way Oh Maker! To enjoy the lack of pain.”

Fenris though- perhaps now. Perhaps now he could try this. He slipped the hand on his stomach lower. His arousal bobbed in the water and he wrapped his hand gently around it. The illicitness of the touch made him more excited. He took a deep breath and tightening the ring of his hand, slowly dragging it up and down. The pleasure unfettered by pain was staggering and a deep keening sound echoed off the stone of the room. He could not focus his thoughts for the sensation, imagines of beautiful people tempted him behind his eyelids, most prominent was the scene the Mage had made earlier this evening.

A hated voice whispered from the back of his mind,”... _ that was exquisite. You may bring yourself to completion. Stay on your knees and rest your head here. Do not mess my robes. There’s my good little wolf _ …” The ghost of bony fingers was in his hair and he felt the anticipation of it working blood magic into him, surging intense pain and pleasure. His arousal throbbed but he dropped it as if burned. 

“Venhidis!” Fenris shuttered and retched. The wine was soured by his stomach and tainted the water like blood.

He stood up, pulling the drain and drew a bucket of the cold water from the pump to douse himself with. Over and over he poured the water until he shivered. 

‘Your body’s reactions to violation are not your fault’, he repeated in his head as he put on his loose clothes. He walked back to his bedroom feeling defeated by his own mind, smashing furnishings against or through the walls on his way. When he got to the room he stalked to the wine bottle he had shared with the Mage earlier and drank it down like a man dying of thirst before throwing it into the fire. He no longer needed it to dull the pain in his body, but the pain of his memories was a different matter.

Not this night but one day he would reclaim that part of himself. He fell onto his bed, light headed. A faint smell of sex lingered but he had his face buried in the pillow. The incense-like scent the Mage now wore filled his nose. It was pleasant. He had never smelled such an aroma on a person for in Tevinter the fashion was for men to wear flora notes and the women fruit perfume. Underneath the smooth woodsy aroma there was human sweat elfroot, bread, and tea. The combination saturated his senses and he found his tension ease once again. It was different from anyone else. He recalled the warmth of the Mage’s parting smile. As he drifted off to sleep he felt wrapped in that warmth.

***

The world around him was hazy and Faded at the edges.

Fenris looked up at the elven woman as she worked. Her sleeves were rolled up and flour covering her apron while she hummed. She smiled tiredly at him. The world faded or perhaps he blinked then it was the Mage smiling while kneading dough in Hawke’s kitchen. When Fenris looked down again the dough had become bread which the man held out to Fenris. ‘Take what is offered’, Anders said with an inviting smile. 

****

Footnotes:

I’m using German for Ander. Thank online translation because most of the German I know is via Rammstein: 

  1. Sogoodsogoodsogood.You sing so beautifully. Maker! Do not stop, handsome elf man. They sing! Maker! Please Please Pease…
  2. Please touch me. Fenris, let me kiss you, suck you, whatever you want. Please let me kiss you. Please.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a bit intense.


	12. Normal People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is around the edges of plot with cannon typical violence.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far! Comments and kudos keep me going!^_^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris don't actually interact in this chapter but they will in the next. I have a lot for that written but I wanted to post it separate.

Chapter 12: Normal People

Fenris slowly came to awareness. There was a dream he was desperately trying to hold in his mind’s eye. It felt more than a dream, like a fragment of his lost memories. It had faded somewhat but it seemed for once he had managed to retain some of it. 

The elven woman, she was baking bread. Her face was a blur but he remembered the impression of kindness. She had blond hair and he appeared to be looking up at her as if he had been on the floor. Or perhaps, perhaps he had been shorter, a child.

It was a lonely candle of light in the endless memory darkness before the experiment which had given him his lyrium markings, but He smiled to himself at the victory.

He opened his eyes. Motes of dust caught in a beam of sunlight falling from the ceiling. He gazed at them feeling as light as one of those motes of dust. If he listened closely he could hear the distant clamor of life on the streets but inside the mansion was all silent save for the creaks and sighs of the derelict building itself. 

He had a slight headache from the wine and his feet had the return of the pain, but he could not remember ever having such a restful night’s sleep. Between the constant pain and nightmares he would wake frequently. 

He had the Mage to thank for that, perhaps even to thank for the one memory that he had managed to keep when the rest always slipped through his mind like water through a sieve. For this moment, Fenris allowed himself to feel happiness in what he had gained.

He held his hand up and watched it as he lazily flexed and opened his fingers, together and one at a time, marveling at the painlessness.The feel of his clothing and the sheets was interesting. He was strangely aware of the clothing covering him, where it was tightened from rolling in his sleep, the sweep of the weave against his skin when he moved. He slowly slid his legs on the bed fascinated by the textures. 

The Mage’s scent released into the air with the disruption. He was surrounded by it and, laying on his back in the mess of linens and pillows, was reminded of when the Mage had curled around him to demonstrate how to use a knife for preparing vegetables. His hot human breath tickled at his ear and throat while his hands had been firm but not restraining, gentle over Fenris’s own. The Mage’s words echoed in his head, ‘ _ It’s not about power it’s about control _ ’. Fenris moaned at the beginnings of arousal. It pressed up against the tight fabric of his pants but with a half hard lack of urgency allowing him to ignore it and remained relaxed in bed. After last night he did not wish to ruin the pleasantness of the morning and his current state was its own new experience. He could never remember being aroused feeling so calm and unguarded. So free.

Still looking at his hand he questioned the air, “Is this what normal people feel?” 

The unlocked front door opened with a bang.

“Fenris! It’s Hawke!” A resounding voice called out. As if it could be anyone else with that bellow. Notwithstanding the other night, Hawke always announced himself boisterously ever since the one time he had tried to sneak in almost had Fenris beheading him in a paranoid attack. 

Fenris sprung from the bed on instinct and walked over to the door of his room to peer down at the rogue who was at the foot of the stairs. “A moment Hawke”, he called down. 

He returned to the shelf across from his bed on which rested his armor and proceeded to don the pieces. 

He glanced to the rumpled bedding and recalled how alluring the Mage had looked there, how understanding he had been after. It had bothered him, the prospect of being indebted to a mage let alone an abomination but the human seemed to give of himself to Fenris as he did for the downtrodden of Darktown. In the last few days he had found Anders the man twice as likeable as infuriating. Which was rather likeable considering the man’s vocal history on certain topics. There were moments he had forgotten the blond was a demon harboring Mage. That could be very dangerous. 

Fenris put those thoughts away as he finished adjusting the last strap on his left gauntlet while striding over to the balcony.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Hawke?” Fenris said as he ushered Hawke up.

“I’m going to go deal with that rat bastard Javaris today and hoped you’d join me”. Hawke beamed.

“It would be my pleasure Hawke”, Fenris replied and he meant it. The idea of applying well earned violence was a welcome distraction from his current thoughts of the Mage. 

“Who will be accompanying us?”, Fenris asked.

“I’d like some extra muscle for this one so we’ll go get Aveline from the Barracks then swing by the Alienage for Merrill”, Hawke answered.

“She is working on that thing again?” Fenris said with disapproval.

Hawke sighed wearily for so early in the morning. “I fucking hate that mirror”.

“She still fails to see sense”, Fenris said, sheathing his greatsword.

“Not yet. She doesn’t mean harm Fenris. She’s so obsessed every time I try to bring it up we only fight. She wouldn’t speak to me for days when I refused to let her bring it into my home”, Hawke replied as they walked to the door. 

“I fear it will end badly my friend”, Fenris said. Hawke was his first and best friend in this world but that big heart of his was going to get him hurt one day.

“As do I my friend, as do I”, Hawk said sadly but with a sudden forceful change of voice added, “Well, one thing at a time. Let’s take clear out Smuggler's Cut before my blades get rusty”. He twirled his wicked daggers about grinning like a madman.

Fenris followed his friend to gather their other companions and listened to the stories Hawke told. Fenris knew they were just as much to distract himself as to entertain Fenris. By the time the four were making their way to Smuggler’s Cut from the tunnels of Darktown Hawke was back in high spirits.

***

It seemed the day's troubles would not end. After fighting their way through the Carta and spiders of Smuggler’s Cut they found they had been after the wrong person. They trudged back through the wilderness straight into  _ saar-qamek _ chaos in Lowtown. 

Fenris’s supply of health potions was dangerously low. The changes in his tactile sensations had been dangerously distracting causing him more injuries from bows he should have dodged or blocked. Yet he would not deny his aid to Hawke in this so he remained quiet and shadowed the group while Hawke and Aveline spoke with the guardsman.

He noticed a gathering in a far corner. Many bodies, some moving in pain and others grimly still littered the ground, tended by other more fortunate folk. One figure frantically danced between them. A woman carried a lantern over and the visage of the Mage was illuminated, recognizable even at a distance by his feathery coat and sweep up mess of gold hair. The single loop on his ear twinkled like a golden star in the darkness. He did not notice Fenris. He did not seem to notice anything besides whatever poor victim was in front of him at a given time. 

A brief glow of blue lit the dark over the small body he was hovering over. The fool was doing magic in the open! With guardsmen only a stone's throw away no less. Fenris wanted to go over to shake the blond to reason but Aveline shared a last nod of comradery with the guardsman and the group moved into the alleyway. 

The sickly green  _ saar-qamek  _ mist curled low about the street ominously. The smell of sick and blood was strong.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this”, Aveline said.

“If this goes poorly the Mage is tending patients near where we entered”, Fenris offered.

“Oh stop with the doom and gloom both of you. Let’s go kick some crazy elf ass”, Hawke twirled his daggers while grinning maniacally. Merrill giggled at the display. 

Once the fighting began they had to move quickly and stay high to avoid the poisonous gas. The area was eerily quiet, the residents having fled or died. The vague shapes of corpses visible under the thick green cloud. Men, women...children. Just normal people, going about their lives struck down by a madwoman with too much easy power. He did not allow his eyes to linger on the bodies. He could not afford any further distraction lest his body join theirs. More mercenaries accosted them with each barrel they shut. By the time the fanatical elven woman had appeared to rant Fenris had already used the last of his health potions but still felt the sting of sweat on open wounds. He wondered if the Witch would reflect on how chasing after a doomed history had wrought nothing but ruin here. He doubted it. 

When the crazed elf was done with her speech Merrill and Hawke performed their deadly dance on her and her mercenaries while Aveline drew their attention. The Captain had been fighting with Hawke since before they came to Kirkwall and it showed. Fenris charged off after a lone assailant. He did not notice the archer. 

The shot hit him in the leg. He stumbled and rolled. A tendon injured, and an artery by the looks of the blood. He went to stand but a flood of dizziness and nausea grounded him. As the sickly green world faded to black, beyond the clamor of the fighting he heard a baby’s muffled cry. 

A face was slow appearing in his vision. Hawke. 

“Tell Merrill to listen for the baby”, Fenris said. His mouth tasted of blood and bile while his throat and chest felt burned. The rogue’s worried face looked back at him confused before splitting into two and fading again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Fenris will be working through a lot of things in this fic, not always well. I love my angst.
> 
> The next chapter will be dealing with the aftermath of this one but after that we will be paying a visit to the Rose with some humor, arguments and sexiness.
> 
> With regard to the Hawke/Merrill relationship. I did not Romance Merrill at all in my play-through. This was originally going be be a shorter fic and I later decided to set it in ACT 2. That makes Hawke and Merrill together like this out of place but after watching the romance videos for her I think I will be more satisfied with what I have planned and I hope you will like it as well. 
> 
> This is still primarily a Anders/Fenris fic but I'm going to develop other relationships as well. 
> 
> Also, I have personally committed to not 'fading to black' for sexy times! E gads!


	13. Possible to Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a BAMF!Anders chapter. The aftermath of the attack on Lowtown. Mentions of things that probably happened during that in canon. Keep in mind children lived there so there are mentions of child death and children endanger but nothing graphic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and so much hurt/comfort ahoy. Also babies are cute.

Chapter 13 Possible to Grow

This time he woke awash in green light. It glowed soft behind his closed eyelids, caressed him, soothing the pain. Then it died. Something tickled his nose and he pressed his face further against the softness to his right. 

“Fenris?” The Mage’s worried voice asked. 

Anders loomed above him, eyes wide and face sweat-shiny and pale. The softness Fenris has been enjoying was the oddly cushioned front storm flap of the Mage’s coat and feathers brushed against his face. He became aware that he was currently being held closely by the distraught human. He knew he would normally hate this, and would react violently. Fenris realized this but was so tired he could not feel anything more than the small comfort of being treated gently when hurting. He could not really remember such an occurrence but it was like the shadow of a memory was embracing him and he just wanted to let it.

Then his stomach tried to heave. The world in all its horror came back into focus. His throat was raw and it burned to breath deeply. They were on the packed dirt ground of lowtown, surrounded by pain and death while covered in blood and sick.

“Mage”, Fenris said, which prompted a coughing fit. At that there was a piercing pain in his right leg over the pain of his markings. That old pain was throbbing as well and had risen to just below his knees. As he coughed he reached for the wound only to have his wrist snatched by the increasingly familiar hand of the Mage.

“Don’t touch it!” the Mage said, “I’ve stabilized you and stopped the loss of blood but I can’t heal you fully yet. My mana is dangerously low and they are still bringing people out of there.” 

Fenris grunted and tried to push away and sit himself up at the same time. This was far too close. He did not get this close to people. Weakened as he was he felt far too vulnerable. His heart beat like a panicked little bird in his chest making him dizzy.

“Maker’s ballsack! Just wait a minute you blighted, crazy elf” the blond huffed and stood up with arms full of Fenris and situated him against the wall. 

“Hawke and the others”, Fenris rasped out. Anders handed him a skin of water and he drank slowly.

“They are worse for wear but well and looking for survivors. You on the other hand kept passing out and had to be carried to me” Anders said. Some of the tension in his frame relaxed as they talked.

“I heard a baby crying. Did they find it?”, Fenris asked. 

“Yes”, the Mage’s worried look broke for a small smile as he retrieved a small crate from a few feet away. “Look”, he said. When Fenris peered inside a tiny human with dark, curly hair lay asleep on a neatly folded blanket. The child’s body rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

“It’s amazing she can sleep so well through all of this”, Anders’ face regained a bit of warmth looking down at the child, ”she probably would have been missed if you hadn’t said anything. It appeared her mother hid her away in the ceiling when the mist started driving people mad. You saved her life Fenris.” Anders said.

“Her mother is dead then,” Fenris said, sliding himself up to lean against the stone wall close to the crate. She was a chubby little thing. It did not feel like he was deserving of the praise he heard in the Mage’s voice, but he was glad the tiny human was safe. It was one less tragedy in the City of Chains.

“Everyone in the house was dead. I gathered it was a ghastly scene. Merrill looked green. Hawke, I’ve only seen him look that unnerved when he found Leandra”. Anders gazed out at lines of dead as he spoke. He looked haunted.

“What will happen to her?” Fenris asked. 

Anders seemed to come out of a dark thought at the practical question. “Hopefully we can find some surviving family. If not perhaps while we are trying to find homes for Evelina’s children we may find a place for her. She is old enough to be weaned, a bit over half a year I’d guess.”

Fenris supposed the Healer must be very used to children from running his clinic. Fenris could not remember his own childhood and had little opportunity to interact with children. There were only the children at Seheron, of the Fog Warriors. Just the thought of them, their empty eyes and warm blood, had his stomach turning again.  _ Think of something else _ .

“You have been doing magic in the open with the guard in plain sight. Are you trying to get arrested now?”, Fenris gritted out his thoughts from earlier.

“Oh that. Careful Fenris, you almost sound worried about me” the man teased but the smile did not reach his eyes. “The Guard seems happy enough to pretend they do not see me. Especially while I’m trying to save people. That one fellow remembered meeting me with Hawke and Aveline once. I figured she said something. Even if not we all have bigger problems and I can’t just let people die if I know I can save them. This  _ saar-qamek  _ is out of a nightmare and that's saying something coming from a Grey Warden let me tell you,” the Mage chatter. He was busying himself with grinding up herbs, oblivious to how brave he was as if it were just the expected thing people did instead of saving their own hides. The man was a mess, covered in blood, sick and sweat but Fenris could never remember finding a mage more charming.

“Is there something I can do?”, Fenris asked.

Anders looked at him appraisingly. “Hold your hand out.” 

Fenris did. The hand shook noticeably and he returned it to his side.

“It’s probably blood loss and the imbalance from vomiting so much. You breathed some in too. I need to keep an eye on you in case you end up with pneumonia and you should sit up as much as you can. Can you watch the baby? She doesn’t seem affected by the  _ saar-qamek _ but she is so small I find myself distracted from the others wanting to check on her”. Anders asked.

“Very well”, Fenris said. He found the task surprisingly soothing and she slept so peacefully. He split his attention between her and the Mage.

Limp forms were brought to the Healer. After he was finished with them some were laid out on their left side so as to be tended to by others. Most were taken away to join the lines of the dead. The Mage was in constant motion. The more exhausted he was the more nervous energy he exuded, eyes gleaming feverishly. The strangest thing was how the normally excessively talkative man became quieter and quieter as he worked.

The sick were slowly carried away and the pace of bodies being dragged out of the quarter finally dwindled. The Healer spoke briefly with Lirene before she orchestrated the removal of the last of the living. Anders fell down beside Fenris silently staring at nothing. The vacant expression on the normally animated man felt wrong. Fenris had no idea what to say to the man so he just continued to observe him while guarding the baby.

One of the few remaining volunteers walked past as she removed the last body, a very small one. In passing something soft fell down just past the Healers boot. His gaze snapped to it and he leaned over to retrieve it. A tattered doll made of rags.

The Healer made a sound like a wounded animal. Drawing his legs up, he curled up on himself sobbing so hard whenever he inhaled it ended in a gasp. He was struggling to breath. One of the guardsmen looked over at the commotion. The human was passionate to be sure but he had never seen Anders react like this. Fenris was at a loss for how to handle this situation. 

“Mage, calm yourself Mage.” Fenris directed urgently but the Mage continued to sob as if he could not even hear. Fenris thought hard.  _ What would Hawke do _ ?

“Anders”, he said in a soft voice. Tentatively he reached his hand over to grip the distraught human’s far shoulder. The blond’s shoulders stiffened and he turned to look at Fenris, face flushed and wet from crying. His eyes were wide as if questioning and bright with tears in the lamplight. Fenris resisted the desire to avoid the intensity of the eye contact. After a heartbeat, the human relaxed and leaned into Fenris, wrapping his long arms around his torso with a sort of desperate strength while he cried softly. It was surprisingly not so horrifying to be held by someone if he ignored the bodily fluids which covered them both. 

The guardsmen went back to his business. Fenris was still unsure about how to help, really not having any idea what even Hawke would do or say now so he stayed silent. He felt compelled to comfort this man who had given him a relief he had never dreamed he could have. He remembered how the Mage had leaded into his hand as he played with the blond locks the other night. He brought one hand up and ran his fingers through the mess of hair that had already fallen out of the tie. The Mage’s breathing slowly evened out. Fenris felt a stirring of pride at somehow being able to handle something so delicate, something gentle he was never designed to do that others took for granted. It was possible to grow, the living weapon could choose to be other things.

An ear piercing wailed cut through the air from the crate behind them. Anders’ head shot up, disentangled from Fenris, and leaned over the crate to scoop up the babe using the blanket as a barrier. He rocked and made some gentle noises that were baffling to Fenris but were apparently agreeable to the baby for she ceased her wailing. Large, dark eyes rimmed with thick lashes looked up at Anders before the child yawned and stretched with her whole body.

The Mage gave a short sighing laugh. “Well, at least this little girl is well. She definitely has a strong pair of lungs doesn’t she?”the Healer said not taking his eye off her. 

“Indeed”, Fenris replied, watching them as the blond made ridiculous faces at the child to get her to laugh. Whatever darkness had overtaken the Mage had passed. There was something mesmerizing about the man now. It was like watching him work in the clinic in a way. There was skill here, and happiness. It warmed something in Fenris, like getting close to a fire after trudging about in winter.

“What now?”Fenris asked. 

“We head down to the clinic. Yes, we do, don't we? Yes. Oh, yes!” Anders answered in a voice of exaggerated cheer while still looking at the laughing baby. His eyes were still puffy and his breath hitch occasionally, but it was hard to believe this was the same man who was bawling in Fenris’s arms a few moments ago. 

“Can you heal my leg?”, Fenris asked.

“I am completely out of mana”. Anders said getting the baby to babble at him while he rewrapped the blanket around her. “Here take her for a minute”. 

“I do not know how to properly do that. Surely someone else-”, Fenris said quickly but Anders had already pressed the baby to him. He grasped her tightly with both hands around her little torso. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

“ I sent everyone else away already. It’s not that hard, she can control her head up when you are still. Here rest her bottom on your thigh”, Anders said. Fenris complied, not taking his eyes off the little person. “You mainly need to keep her from flailing about but I think a big, strong warrior like you can handle her”, Anders said as he still guarded the child. She must have found Fenris’s worry humorous because her wide open stare transformed into a huge smile. Her eyes disappeared as her chubby cheeks rose. She threw herself arching backwards in a laugh. Fenris did not expect that level of force from such a small thing but did not lose his grip. 

Anders backed off grinning “At first you looked more afraid of this baby than you even did against even the darkspawn but you’re doing very well”. Fenris spared a quick glance over at the human. The human’s long fingers tied intricate knots in cords.

“How do you propose to get to your clinic with my injury?”, Fenris asked. He refused to make those faces at the child but he swayed her back and forth which seemed to entertain her. 

“I will carry you and you will carry the baby”, Anders answered. “It’s a good thing there is a lift to the Undercity”. Anders added.

“Are you out of your mind?” Fenris said. 

“It’ll be fine. I’ve made a field carrier to strap her to you”, Anders said as he drew close, “Here, hold her to your chest. We’ll have to do this backwards. I can’t just throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes with your injuries and the baby in tow”. He held out a mess of cloth and cords, looping some around the babies legs and pressing the rest to her back.

“Kaffas! That is not what I meant. That is hardly an easy task for anyone, let alone a worn out mage pretending to be a warrior. We will collapse like one of those card houses Merrill makes before Wicked Grace”. Fenris scoffed. He just imagined them all toppling over into the muck of Darktown, mages with their delusions of grandeur. 

Anders stopped what he was doing and looked Fenris in the face, “Listen Fenris. I carry people around the clinic all the time and I’m a Warden. I’m stronger than I look. I don’t fuck around with my patients safety and I don’t fuck around when caring for babies so just trust me this once, alright?” The man looked at him expectantly.

“Fine but if you drop us I’m ‘taking it out on your ass’ as Isabela would say”, Fennris said with as much menace as he could muster in his weakened state while holding a wriggling baby. 

Anders' eyes widened owlishly then he broke into a sly grin.

“Promises, promises”, he said with a wink. 

Oh.  _ Oh _ . Fenris growled. It made the baby cry. Fenris felt a twinge of sadness at upsetting the little human.

“Hey now, don’t scare the baby because you accidentally used one of Bela’s many, many double entendres. You really should just assume everything she says is one”, Anders rattled off and leaned down close to Fenris’s shoulder to talk to the baby, “Hush little lovely, hush. The prickly elf didn’t mean it. No no no he didn’t”. He hummed softly and the baby relaxed onto Fenris’s chest. 

“I did not mean to scare her”, Fenris said quietly as he watched the Healer skillfully calm her down.

“Well of course not. You're just a bit inexperienced with babies, not a monster”, Anders chidded, ''I just bring out the violence in you. I seem to inspire that in some people for whatever reason. Oh well, not everyone has such a wonderful sense of humor as I do.”

“How did you get to be so adept with them?”, Fenris asked. 

“With what?” Anders returned, eyes narrowed in focus in the dim light. He was using his body to brace the baby against Fenris’s chest while he reached around to pass the cords across Fenris’s back and tying them just under the baby's bottom. 

“Babies, you handle them well”, Fenris said. 

“Oh.” Anders said with a gentle little smile.”I had a little sister. Mother was sickly after having her so I helped take care of her”. He doubled checked the carrier and with exaggerated cheer said, “Alright! I’m going to lift you now”. The Blond knelt on one knee beside Fenris, one arm behind his back and the other under his knees he hosted the elf into the air. Fenris did not like the loss of control to another. He gritted his teeth, feeling precarious and weak. 

“Did I hurt you?” the Mage asked with concern.

“No”, was all Fenris replied. The Mage did not look convinced but let it go. 

“Alright then, here we go,” the Mage said and started carrying them to the lift. The baby relaxed against Fenris’s chest and returned to sleep with the steady sway. The Mage did not falter and did not even seem to be straining as Fenris would expect. By the time they were standing in the lift Fenris no longer felt precarious. He relaxed in the large human arms and felt almost safe.

“I’ve never heard you mention a sister before,” Fenris said, touching the soft curls on the little girls head. It was strange to think of the Mage as part of a family. Bloodlines were of course important to mages in Tevinter, but Anders always seemed consumed with his Clinic and his cause to care about such things. 

“Family is a painful subject for me, as it is for most mages forced into the Circles”, the Mage had a familiar sharpness to his tone that Fenris realized he hadn’t heard since before their last trip to the coast with Hawke. He did not like hearing it return. 

Fenris looked away at the ramshackled walls as the lift descended and said, “I do not wish to argue. I do not understand what it is to have a family. I do not remember if I ever had one”.

“What do you mean?”, the Mage said warily.

“The markings. The ritual that gave me my markings also stripped me of my memories, what I was before may as well have never been,” Fenris admitted. He had only ever told this to Hawke. His pulse quickened at confiding in the Mage. A part of him was sure it would be used against him somehow but the human had been giving of himself so freely, Fenris wanted to reciprocate somehow.

“Oh that's, that's appalling. Fucking blood magic. Are you sure it was the ritual? I’ve read blood magic can distort the mind in such ways,” Anders said.

“I wouldn’t know Mage. Could I even trust my own mind then?”, Fenris said bitterly. 

“Well, you could trust the last few years at any rate. I could ask around with the Mage underground about memory magics and their counters,” the Mage’s defensiveness had melted away as quickly as it had appeared. “Oh! Perhaps the writing of Adralla of Vyrantium, she supposedly found a counter to all forms of mind magic.” Anders rambled excitedly.

Wait. Vyrantium? Fenris’s eyes narrowed.

“Vyrantium? You would seek knowledge of the Imperium? I have not escaped that place just to subject myself to another Magister’s foul blood magics. I will never allow that,” Fenris said firmly. 

The mage took a deep breath, “I know you don’t think much of me but I will never offer blood magic as a solution for anything. Ever. Adralla was originally of the Imperium yes,” Anders said cautiously, “but she hated blood magic so much she dedicated her life to finding counters and protections from it. Apparently that did not go over well with her contemporaries in the Imperium and she fled to Fereldan rather than be murdered.” 

“Hmm, I imagine that would not go over well”, Fenris said and then asked carefully. “She did not use blood magic herself?”

“Nope. She was as pious as a holy mother. Maker they would take every opportunity to cram her story down our throats in the Tower. I never thought I’d actually be thankful for it,” Anders said with a laugh.

“I-, appreciate the offer. If you find something that might help I will consider it.” Fenris said. “Mage, Anders, I do not agree with you about many things but I think you are one of the kindest people I know.“

The Mage was quiet at that. Fenris glanced up and found he looked weary but wore a relaxed smile. The lift stopped with a jolt which sent Fenris’s head spinning. The Mage started walking in the dank tunnels towards his Clinic. Somehow the Mage did not carry the stink of Darktown on his person. Fenris turned towards the human's shirt and inhaled: that scented oil and elfroot, human sweat and blood. He was so warm, when did it get so cool in Darktown? If the Healer noticed he did not say anything. 

***

The lanterns were not lit but the Clinic was still busy. Muted sounds of misery filled the space but nothing appeared urgent. The volunteers seemed somewhat at ease now. Lirene had organized the transfer of the few ill Lowtowners who remained unclaimed by the world above. She nodded at Anders when he entered through one of the wide doors and he signalled her over with a look. Her eyes sweep over Fenris to quickly come to rest on the bundle bound to his chest.

“A baby, Anders?” she asked with concern.

“Yes, she was the only one to survive in her house. We will have to sort it out in the morning but in the meantime can you send someone for goat's milk and appropriate fruits or vegetables? I can make her something to eat. Oh. Can someone go draw some water from the pump? It’s late so don’t let anyone travel alone.” Anders said.

“Of course. The ill seem stable. You best go clean up and rest while you can Healer. I will have supper brought for you and your... friend,” she said. Before she turned to leave her eye fell to Fenris once again with a look that felt like a tenuous sanction. It was momentarily confusing until he remembered:  _ Oh. She thinks we are lovers.  _ He might have been flustered if he wasn’t still so dizzy.

The Mage strode through the Clinic proper into the darkened, somewhat private back area where he prepared his medicines and meals. He placed Fenris on one of his tall work tables so that his leg rested on the surface but allowed him to lean back against a pillar. The coldstone made a shiver run through him. He rested the soft area under his chin on the little girl's head and held her close.

“Just give me a minute,” the Healer said and began undoing the fastenings to his coat even as he walked over to the small bed room. He emerged soon after minus the coat and proceeded to wash his hands and face at a basin on a nearby station. When he was finished he poured fresh water over his entire head. With the exception of his monstrous boots, he now appeared clean. His coat having protected him from the sick and gore of his work.

He fetched a candle and kissed the tip to a flame in the front room before returning to Fenris. “Well that is better but when this is all over I will take you up on the offer of a bath if that’s still on the table”, the Mage smiled tirely. His teeth were stained the brilliant blue of lyrium potion. He had on one of his old, shabbier tunics. It was too wide for him and the neckline slid down a shoulder. Fenris watched mesmerized as a droplet of water trailed down from behind the Mage’s ear along his throat to pool in the hollow of his collarbone. 

“Fenris?” The Healer’s voice had a note of concern to it.

“Hmm?”, Fenris sighed. His eyes were getting hard to keep open. A hand burned hot against his sweat cold forehead.

“Maker’s Blood! You’re going into shock. The artery must have reopened,” the Healer said as he started undoing the fastenings to the harness. “Lirene! I need your help!”, he shouted. The baby startled and cried. Lirene rushed to the Healer’s side and he passed the child to her. Fenris felt himself whirled around to lay flat on the table. 

“Stay awake Fenris”, the Mage demanded from above while that green magic lit his pale, frightened face. The magic suffused his aching flesh and pulled the pain from his wounds. Fenris’s eyes closed at the relief. A sharp slap had them snap open. “I said stay awake you blasted elf!” The rim of a glass flask was pressed to his lips smelling strongly of herbs. “Drink” barked out the Mage. Fenris did so but with the next wave of green he could not keep from falling into darkness no matter how loud the Mage shouted. The last thing he saw as the light faded was Ander’s frantic brown eyes.

***

Fenris came to awareness in a flash of disorientation. The smells about him were pleasant but they were not his own. When he opened his eyes he found himself wrapped up in layers of threadbare blankets. He was in the Mage’s bed. The scents of the human surrounded him, the woody oil, sweat, tea, and a long faded trace of human spent. 

Fenris sat up and looked around, noting he was wearing one of the tall man’s shirts. It was much too large and shabby, but the wear had made the fabric soft against Fenris’s sensitive skin. 

The Mage sat at the desk to his side sleeping, his head rested on folded arms, and lips parted slightly as he snored softly. It was odd to see Anders so still. If he wasn’t busying himself with something his face was certainly jumping with animated expressiveness. It seemed every stray feeling the Mage had was immediately written on his face. How could anyone be so comfortable expressing so much?

For now though the Mage’s face was placid and expressionless. Fenris studied his long face for a moment. He had heard long faces were common among the people of the Anderfels, tall stature as well. Anders. Anders who spoke Ander. The name was a question in Fenris’s head now, but he continued his study.

The human’s blond hair fell in a mess with locks across his face. He had a strong brow, and large eyes with the beginnings of delicate lines on both. The man has recently took to clean shaving but his facial hair seemed to grow quickly. The stubble sparkled red-gold in the candlelight, the shadow of it accentuated the man’s prominent cheekbones but covered the slight hollowness of his cheek. His forearms were bare, loose sleeves of his torn tunic rolled up revealing a light smattering of freckles and surprisingly toned musculature. Well, perhaps not considering the human had carried Fenris all the way to the clinic earlier.

As if hearing his thoughts, Anders interrupted his steady rhythm of light snores with a puffed of breath. Fenris’s eyes were drawn to his mouth. It was large for his face. That was not exactly surprising, Fenris mused to himself. His lips were flushed dark, the bottom lip was noticeably more full than the top. Perhaps from the Mage’s tendency to abuse it. Fenris recalled running his thumb across it. He had a strange impulse to do so again, strange but easily quashed.

The slumbering human was a mess, imperfect. He was also more beautiful than all the perfectly manicured, pampered creatures of Tevinter because the mess was a mark of his caring and effort. Fenris felt calm and almost happy despite his weakness.

That was until Anders’ eyes opened with an eerie blue light and the human’s body sat up with a ridged posture wholly unnatural to him. This was not his Mage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am tempted to start the next bit with a short Justice POV, what do we think?
> 
> The next chapter will involve less grimness, the return of humor, and sexy times.
> 
> Thank you for reading and encouraging me!


	14. The Mage is a Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris meets Justice. Fenris is starting to actually deal with his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is a little bit of everything. Slice of life, hurt comfort, fluff, angst, my own created backstory embellishments and something that may finally be my first thing ever I've written at an E level (I am still unclear on M vs E in some instances)
> 
> warnings: dangerous childbirth and brief sexual abuse flashback

Chapter 14: The Mage is a Problem

The fixed nature of physical interaction in this world of substance was ever gratifying, but interaction with the mortals in it was another matter. 

When he first had become exiled to this world the Wardens had been patient with him. He had been able to speak for himself then, to question. He had been himself despite the memories which lingered in the body he occupied. He was not truly himself now but he was closer to what he had been, what he should become again. 

When he resided in the body of Kristoff the shadows of the man’s memories had been confusing but they paled in comparison to the madness of a living mortal mind. It was as if mortals were made up of a thousand of his Spirit brethren and they all clamored to be heard.The emotions tempted and twisted at him. Anders to whom he was bound seemed a particularly emotional mortal. He confounded Justice with often conflicting feelings. The elf now in their bed was an outstanding example of this turmoil. admiration, anger, fear, lust, affection.

Justice had become lost in the sea of emotion before the Elf’s song gave him clarity, reminded him of home. 

Still, there was much this new existence had taught him. He believed the Elf’s expression was anger but he had learned from Anders that it might also be fear, that one sometimes created the other. He would not have known or care about that before.

“Do not come near me demon,” the elf snarled.

“I am no demon, do not fear. I mean you no harm. Anders is resting. Do not disturb him,” Justice said.

“I am sure most demons claim to mean no harm”, the elf retorted but did not move.

“That is likely true”, Justice said. “I would not know, I do not choose to associate with demons and you mortals are very confusing. If I am able to return home I shall enjoy the quiet”.

“Return home?” Fenris asked.

“To the fade”, answered Justice.

“You wish to return to the fade”, the elf asked.

“Yes”, said Justice, wondering again at the need mortals had for restating the obvious.

The elf was quiet for a time but then in a less harsh voice asked, “Is Anders...well?”

“He is unharmed. He wore himself out keeping you alive,” Justice answered. 

“So then I am more indebted to the Mage”, Fenris said quietly.

“Perhaps. Anders is not one to collect on any such debt if one exists.” Justice answered then added, ”I owe you thanks, Fenris the elf. You helped Anders when I could not.”

“What?” the elf asked.

“His feelings are powerful and painful. His sorrow and shame were so great today but I could not help him as I have before. We saw the guards, the threat they posed and still I could do nothing. You could. You did. So I thank you.” Justice said.

“I-, that was not something to-, he had just saved many lives including my own”, the Elf sputtered. 

“Yes,” confirmed Justice. Perhaps the injuries made the elf distrust his recollections and require confirmation of the events.

“He had just done that and felt shame? Why?” the elf asked.

“It is confounding to me as well. I was hoping another mortal might be able to give me insight. These emotions you mortals have are not ordered or reasoned. Anders’ seem to be intensely disordered and unreasonable. It is disorienting,” Justice admitted.

The elf huffed a laugh, “even the de-, ‘spirit’ in his head finds him foolish”.

“You refer to our cause, justice for mages”, Justice asked.

“Your dangerous foolishness, yes. I have lived in a world of free mages. Look there if you wish to see injustice”, the elf said.

“Perhaps one day I shall, but there is much injustice here. It seems this whole world teems with injustice”, answered Justice, ”That which Anders has lived and bore witness to cannot abide. Do you imagine one injustice negates another, that what you have suffered makes his inconsequential?”

“I did not say that,” Fenris said quickly.

Justice sighed. It was a habit of Anders that he emulated. It was strange how the small act of the flesh calmed the Spirit. These quiet moments when Anders slept could be pleasant and productive when not arguing with stubborn elves.

“Mortals are confusing. You hate us and yet you help us, touch us. I think perhaps I am not able to understand. I will retreat now. Let Anders rest. He would wish you to rest as well”, Justice said and without hesitation lay Anders’ head back on the table nestled in his folded arm just as if he had never moved it. He retreated back into Anders’ mind, coiling around the sleeper protectively.

***

_ Mother was white as snow, her face shiny with tears when she looked up at him from the bundle in her arms. He had never seen her like this, she was always smiling and warm. It felt wrong and he hesitated at the door.  _

_ “Frederik, go. There is not much time, pray for them and say goodbye,” His father’s voice, always stern, sounded brittle. He could hear older brother Oswald sobbing down the hall. Mother wanted to say goodbye to her children one at a time. Father closed the door and the sharp sound set him off to his mother quickly. She took his hand. _

_ “Pray with me my darling. Pray for me to reach the Maker’s side safely with your sister” she said and smiled but it did not reach her eyes. The baby in her arms was blue like the lake ice. It was wrong. It was wrong, wrong, wrong. _

_ He dove at her, embracing her and the baby both. She sang the chant but he was not listening. He prayed. With eyes shut tight he prayed in his head to the Maker and his Bride, ‘please make it right please make it right please make it right’. As he prayed he imagined how it should be. His mother’s face is cheerful and a squirming baby pink and healthy. He felt a warmth wash over him and a light lit his eyelids up. He opened his eyes. His mother had stopped chanting, her eyes and mouth wide in shock at the green light surrounding them. When it faded her freckled cheeks were rosy as they should be. _

_ A cry like a cat alerted them to the baby, now ruddy faced from screaming. _

_ Gisila.  _

_ My silly Gisila.  _

_ Her blue eyes like father’s twinkling with mischief like mother’s as she cajoled, “show me that trick again Freiderik”. He ruffled her messy brown curls. He could never say no to her. He should have said no. _

_ The world was on fire and she was screaming. _

_ *** _

“Anders. Wake up. Anders,” a voice beckoned him to consciousness.

“Hmmm?” Anders was thankful to be out of that dream but he did not want to be awake.

Fingers ran through his hair. Blunt nails scrapped along his scalp. Oh that was nice. He leaned into it and whined as the hand withdrew. Awake now, he stretched. Sleeping at the desk was not pleasant for his neck. 

He opened his eyes to meet a familiar pair of narrowed moss green eyes. His face was still ashen from blood loss. He stood over Anders on shaky legs, swimming in Anders’ old shirt. His tense pose softened slightly but the elf’s face was still a mask.

“Fenris, you should be resting. Is something wrong?”, Anders asked. Concern giving him sudden alertness.

“Your demon paid me a visit”, Fenris said.

“He’s not a demon”, Anders said reflexively. ‘Andraste’s ass! What did you say to him?!’ he metally screamed at Justice.

“So he says as well”, Fenris said.

‘ _ To let you sleep. That you are both confusing mortals. Gave him thanks for helping you _ ’, Justice grumbled, ‘ _ can he touch us again now _ ?’

‘You asked him to touch us?!’Anders panicked. ‘ _ Fuckfuckfuck _ .’

_ ‘No. You are both awake you should ask now _ ’, Justice replied. 

Anders exhaled in relief, ‘Not the time, hush now. This is too confusing’. 

“Mage?” Fenris said.

“What? Oh, yes. I’m sorry, that must have been unsettling, especially when you are injured. He just likes to make sure I am safe when I’m out of it”, Anders said while standing up from the desk, “you should rest more though. I will get you something to eat and -” A short squawk of a cry pierced the quiet of the clinic.“Oh, let me go check on the little one, she’s probably hungry too”. Anders whirled around to escape this awkwardness but the sudden movement had his head spinning and he lost his balance. A strong arm caught him around the middle, pulling him back against the hard press of muscle of Fenris’s chest. Fingers pinched his ear, pulling his head down with his neck craned back so he stared up at the ceiling. Fenris’s deep resonance voice tickled at his ear, “You are a fool, a kind, beautiful, dangerous fool and I fear what your foolishness will lead to but I do not hate you”. He felt like his dizziness had changed into a full body hum and burn. 

Then the pinching was gone and he stood up tall, extremely aware of the arm still around his middle and the thumping of his heart against his chest. Beautiful. He thinks I am beautiful? Then the rest of what the elf said registered and anger sharpened his thoughts and his tongue. He pushed away from the elf’s loose hold.

“I am not a child to have my ears pinched and lectured,” Anders sulked while rubbing his ear. “What’s next? Is the big bad warrior elf going to try to spank the naughty little mage? Kinky but I’ll pass on that game today, thanks.” Anders shouted and let out a mocking laugh.

“Someone needs to make you see sense”, Fenris said with a raised voice, crossing his arms across his chest. The intimidation he was probably going for was somewhat stymied by the fact that he only wore a torn shirt that barely reached his knees. Swirls of white lyrium peeked out from the unlaced chest closure and licked up his muscular calves. Anders really tried not to think about where the patterns went, that the warrior wore nothing beneath that shirt.

“Oh and I suppose you’ve decided you’re the man for the job because you ‘do not hate me’?” Anders raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms to match Fenris.

“He said you thought I did”, the elf said, voice suddenly soft. He looked at the floor.

“Who said what?” Anders asked impatiently.

“Your demon- 'Spirit’,” Fenris answered, “he said you thought I hated you. Your ‘Mage Rights’ are dangerous and you can be extremely annoying about them, but I have never hated you.” The elf lifted his gaze but not his posture so that his large eleven eyes peered up at Anders through locks of white hair stained with dried blood. The rusty red made the green of his eyes brighter. It was a strange look from the normally proud warrior. Vulnerable. He had looked at Anders like this in this very room the night he had apologized. It was unfair how quickly it made the anger knotting up his insides untangle. Anders was struck by the thought that he would have not noticed this a week ago. Justice would have blinded him to it. 

“Well, good,” Anders responded, “You can be a stubborn ass but I’ve never hated you either”. He grinned at the elf and although the elf averted his gaze again, one corner of his mouth was turned up in return. Now that his anger had left him he felt exhausted and his neck ached.

“Lirene and some of the other women are enjoying taking care of the little one. I can hear them so do not worry. From what they are saying it seems it is only just passed dawn. You need to sleep and not at your desk. Come with me to the bed.” Fenris said, stepping closer to Anders.

“You want to sleep together?” Anders asked. ‘Andraste’s holy ass!’, he thought.

“I will not sleep but I will stay with you and rest a while longer”, the elf replied.

“I-, I thought. You don’t want to be touched, right? I’m sort of a sleep cuddler, hands and legs all over,” Anders said as he nervously played with the frayed edge of his tunic. Fenris’s hand wrapped around his, stilling it.

“If you do something that bothers me I will move”, Fenris answered calmly. His other hand came to rest on the base of Anders' spine. It was surprising how with just a few gentle touches he drew Anders along to the bed until he was sitting on it with the elf bending over to undo the buckles and ties of his boots. With his continued lightheadedness he wondered if perhaps he was still dreaming. 

“Mage the knots on these things are excessive”, Fenris grumbled.

“I’ll do that”, Anders said, fingers dancing across the familiar knotwork without turning away from the elf.

Fenris slid himself up to sit against the wall at the head of the bed. He left the part of the bed tucked against the wall open. Anders tucked his boots under the bed. Fenris looked at him expectantly.

“Alright then”, Anders said with a gulp and crawled up to the corner of the bed to face the wall.

A hand started to play with his hair, the tingling of his scalp making the tension in his shoulders melt and he sighed in contentment.

“You did much good last night. Many more would have died without you, including myself”, Fenris’s deep voice whispered. “Go to sleep you brave, foolish Mage”. There was almost a fondness in the voice, but perhaps that was Anders’ tired imagination. It did not take long for Anders to follow his instruction.

***

Fenris played with the blond locks splayed across his chest. This Mage was a problem in so many ways. The appearance of the demon had been alarming even if it did not behave as any demon Fenris had heard of, claiming to want to return to the Fade. It was also alarming how relieved he was to see Anders again after. 

He had had every intention of leaving as soon as the Mage fell asleep but it seemed the human had not understated his sleeping tendencies. No sooner had the Healer fallen asleep than Fenris found himself half covered by the man, solid but comforting instead of confining. Fenris found himself slipping down from his sitting position. The higher body heat that all humans had compared to elfs chased away the lingering chill from yesterday's blood loss. 

It would be so easy to give in and join the blond in sleep, but Fenris had too much weighing on his mind and needed to get away from the source of his misgivings. So when he felt himself starting to relax too much he disentangled himself from the lanky man, quietly put on his filthy armor, and left the room. 

Lirene looked up at him as he exited the Mage’s room. She had been rocking the little one while sitting at a small table in the back of the clinic and beckoned him over to where she sat. As he walked over to her he noticed the sick and injured from the night before had been cleared out and the clinic was empty and dark save for the smoldering coals of the fire and two women cleaning up after the chaos. 

“You look a sight better this morning. There is some porridge over the fire and milk in the larder. After last night breakfast is in order for all of us I wager.Eat well, there is a drastic shortage of healing potions and ingredients throughout the city so you will have to heal by other means”, she said. He followed the direction she had nodded and retrieved himself a portion, sitting down across from her at the table.

“How is the baby?”, Fenris asked.

“Healthy as can be and twice as sweet”, Lirene looked up from the sleeping girl with a bright smile.

“Has there been any word on her family?”, Fenris asked.

“Not as of yet”, when the Healer wakes I will ask him to speak to the ones who found her to be sure of which house she was in.

“That would be Hawke and the others with him,” Fenris answered. She nodded as if unsurprised.

“How is he?”, she asked, returning her eyes on the baby. He felt scrutinized all the same.

“He is still sleeping”, Fenris answered and started eating. 

“I’m glad after last night. I worried he would be up already. That man runs himself into the ground and just gets up and keeps going until he falls over again”, she said with a tired exasperation. “I’m glad you were able to get him to go back to sleep. He doesn’t listen to me about such things”. She gave him that small approving smile again. 

“I have seen you visit the Healer with Serah Hawke. I did not think you and Anders got along, you were cold if not hostile to each other”, Lirene seemed to be watching him for something.

“Yes, we disagree on many things. “Fenris answered.

“You seem more friendly though, and you are...around more often”, Lirene said.

“We are on friendlier terms, yes”, Fenris offered. Lirene smiled at that.

“Good, the healer needs more friends, ones who will ‘make him see sense’, she said with a grin.

‘Kaffas!’, Fenris thought to himself.

“You heard that”, he said tightly.

“Oh just the parts you two were shouting”, she said with a laugh.

“Ah,” Fenris voiced, still tense. He fixed his eyes on his empty bowl.

“Oh, I’m teasing but I am pleased. Just be careful with him please?”, she said. The request confused Fenris a bit.

“I will try”, Fenris said and stood, “I must attend to other matters now though.” He ran his dishes to the wash basin and cleaned them. Before leaving he returned to the woman and quietly said, ”When he wakes will you tell him he is welcome to visit me this evening if he is not otherwise engaged”. 

Lirene answered, “I will indeed”. He was just about to pass into the main room of the Clinic when she called out to him, “Elf”. He turned back to look at her. She was grinning as if she had a secret and it set Fenris on alert.

“From what his Pirate friend says you might want to try giving him that spanking, but you just might end up getting talked into one yourself,” she said.

Fenris turned around and walked briskly out of the clinic, feeling his ears burning all the way back to his Mansion.

***

The walk back from Darktown had fatigued Fenris due to the blood loss but he was careful not to show weakness in the streets. Slavers, hunters or even a desperate cut throat could be lurking, waiting for the opportunity to strike even in broad daylight. When he had finally made it to his bedroom he stripped the armor off and sat by the fire a moment before cleaning the gore from his armor and sword, it would not do to have them ruined. The familiar manual task helped him focus on something other than the Mage. 

After Fenris had removed the filth from his gear and bathed himself quickly as the cold water made him shiver, his teeth chattering unless he clenched his jaw. When he was finished he grabbed the winter blankets from the chest at the foot on the bed and collapsed under the bundle. The unfairly appealing scent of vexing human still clung to the bedding. He quickly fell into a deep sleep.

_ The Blond was bound to the bed, writhing and begging as he had been before. Only now he was beneath Fenris, driving up into him deliciously. With each thrust the human hit that spot deep inside elven men which sent pleasure coursing through him, propelling him to release. Fenris looked down from Anders’ desire filled eyes to the pink of the impossible scar peeked out from between undone laces. Fenris brushed his fingers over it before he placed his hands on the humans thighs and leaned backward so as to hit that deep point of pleasure more directly. Anders moaned and let his head fall backwards. He closed his eyes and the world tilted. A bony, too soft hand grasped Fenris’s aching phallus harshly by the root, around the enchanted ring controlling him there. The ring pulse with pain pleasure, keeping at exactly the level of arousal as would please his Master best. ‘No messes now. Be a good boy for me, my Fenris’. Fenris looked up to see Danarius’s cruel grin and panicked. He tried to get away but the hand would not yield, growing into a claw as Danarius transformed into a demon. He thrashed but it was as if he were moving under water.  _

_ He closed his eyes and felt strong arms wrap around him, pulling his back flush to a broad chest and away from the demons. They seemed to float, their surroundings obscure. _

_ ”I’m sorry, is this alright?” Anders whispered in his ear. His large human hand moving down to cover Fenris’s own. Fenris rested back into him in relief. _

_ ”It’s fine,” Fenris answered. _

_ “Good. I’m going to guild you” the Mage placed his hand on his reawakened arousal. “It’s not about power it’s about control. You want a grip just firm enough... the motion is controlled and gentle”. Fenris felt pleasure building with great speed. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.” Pleasure pulsed from deep within as the Mage was thrusting into him. Pleasure without pain. _

_ “Well done”, Anders said, pleased. _

Fenris awoke thrusting into the mattress, tangled in the sheets and heavy blankets. His erection was hard and heavy while the pleasant final dream was fresh in his mind. He closed his eyes chasing the sense memory of the Mage and reached down to thrust his erection in the tight grip of his hand. 

“Well done”, Anders voiced echoed over and over in his head.

Body arched tight as a bow, Fenris released with a feral scream. The pleasure coursed through him in waves until, spent, he collapsed into his copious ejaculate. When he came back to himself and caught his breath he rolled over and sat up. His body was covered in his spent, crotch all the way to his cheek where it had fallen on an errant spurt on his pillow. His own taste was on his tongue from smearing on his lips. He touched his stomach, letting his fingers play through the mess and smiled to himself. It was the first time such dreams turned away from Danarius, that he did not feel the urge to be sick on waking. Fenris laughed darkly to himself that another mage had inspired this. The Mage was a problem but no matter how complicated his feelings towards the man were becoming this was a victory over his past. He fell back, muscles relaxed despite the ache, and smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really appreciate feedback on the backstory stuff I'm making up and the last bit. 
> 
> If you read the last chapter before I edited the footnote and were expecting a trip to the Rose, sorry I got a little sidetracked but that will be going on in the next chapter. You can give me a 'spank' in the comments if you like. 
> 
> The next chapter will have naughty times.


	15. The Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a lot of minor characters, a secret is made known, and there is a bit of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Life is strange lately but it's also a long chapter. I used a lot of minor characters here so I hope it reads well. Let me know if I'm not clear. Also, Sebastian is in this one again so I hope I'm writing him ok.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments!
> 
> Warnings: Prostitution, attempted rape/noncon, brief allusions to past child abuse/sexual abuse

Chapter 15: The Rose

“You seem less broody today. Are your undergarments less twisty? What color are they again, ivy green?” Isabela asked as she sauntered along the Hightown roads with a board expression. Fenris gave a small cough-like laugh.

“Not today”, he replied.

The pirate perked up at that, “So you have a pair that is ivy green. Nice. Doesn't explain the weight off your shoulders though. Maybe someone got into those undergarments,” Isabela shot him a hopeful grin.

“Perhaps I am merely elated to be among the living,” Fenris answered with a half grin.

“You missed the party last night Isabela,” Hawke said then a bit more sombrely added, “If Anders hadn’t been so close by, Fenris would be among the dead”.

“I am glad to miss that sort of party you maniac”, Isabela shot back. 

Hawke looked over his shoulder at Fenris and asked, “Your fighting was off last night, what was going on with you?”

Before he could think of a response they had turned a corner enough to see the doors of ‘The Blooming Rose’. Isabela let out a sound of excitement, “Here we are boys! I’m going to treat myself while we’re here since you’ve talked me into traipsing over to Sundermount tomorrow”. 

“I used to frequent places like this. The number of times my parents had the servants drag me home…Hawke what is your purpose in going to the Rose again and why do you feel the need to bring a Chantry brother with you to a brothel?” Sebastian asked apprehensively as they entered the red lantern district. 

“Well, I haven’t been since before the whole thing with the Deep Roads. There was so much gossip and some decent jobs I thought I’d check in just in case before we head out for Sundermount. I don’t want to have to make the trip twice.” Hawke answered in a calm, reasonable voice which belayed the amused twinkle in his eye. 

Isabela inserted herself between the two and slung an arm around both their shoulders in a friendly manner leaning into Sebastian’s space as she said, “Besides it’s just going to be so delightful to watch you squirm around all the sinful ladies if those lusty tales of your past are true”. She smiled wickedly and trotted up ahead of them laughing as Sebastian fought to suppress a grin.

“You’re a menace, woman!,” the Brother called out to her. 

She stopped with her hand on the door of ‘The Blooming Rose’ and leaned backwards while holding onto the handle in a manner which accentuated her buxom figure. She grinned upside down at them and called back, “and you love it!” then strutted into the brothel. Sebastian let out a rich, rolling laugh.

Fenris enjoyed his companions’ friendly banter. After the horrors of saar-qamek and his emotional confusion regarding the mage it was pleasant to be distracted, even if they were venturing to a brothel.

“Maybe I just need a little moral support to avoid temptation without Merrill around. I had quite a bit of fun here in the past you know”, Hawke said, clapping a hand on the Brother’s shoulder.   
The reminder that Hawke had frequented the place made Fenris’s frown deepen on following his friends into the establishment. He was glad Hawke had not requested his presence on those occasions. Everyone knew that Hawke was lying about needing restraint today though. As promiscuous as the Rogue had been before, once he met the spritely Dalish girl he only had eyes for her. No, he had confided to Fenris that before they left for Sundermount he wanted to make sure the Chantry Brother had a little diversion from tending to all the people mourning the dead in the wake of the Lowtown massacre.

At the moment the place was thankfully not busy with only a few patrons in the late afternoon. The ambient sounds of chatter and a jonty tune by a minstrel wielding a lute were somewhat pleasant if he let himself forget where he was for a moment. Isabela had apparently already paid the matron and was prowling among the whores for a bed mate.

He followed Hawke to the bar where he began talking with a white haired shrew of a woman, the ‘matron’. Where once he would have voiced his disgust, he recalled his conversation with the Mage ‘...They are just people, trying to get by in this shithole city...’ and aware of his proximity to other people as he always was, held his tongue in deference to the workers present. Many of the workers chatted together over drinks. He caught a bit of conversation, it was better than listening to the grating voice of the ‘matron’.

“...Maker bless him. I didn’t hold out any hope that anyone would give an elf-blooded whoreson like my boy a second chance but that man came out of the blue and worked something out with Katriela to get her to drop the charge”, an elven woman with garish makeup and a rough voice said as she organised glasses at the bar.

“I was surprised considering what a brat your boy had been,” the gruff human Bartender standing beside her replied as he wiped down the counter. 

She flicked at his backside with her own bar rag. “Oh shut it Quintus, he’s just a little boy. You know he’s only been acting like that since that drunk piece of Fereldan dog shit cornered him upstairs, may he rot in the harbor” the red headed elf said harshly. 

“Now now Sabina, your little hero is Fereldan. Well, he’s not a little hero. Are you planning on thanking him thoroughly later? I wouldn’t mind tagging along for that. He cleans up nicely,” teased a dark haired elf sitting at the bar. Her voice was deeper than Fenris’s own but her form and matter were decidedly feminine.

“Hmmm... he smells better than most of them, not like wet dog, so I forget sometimes.” The red head sighed, “I offered but he said no, said he just wished someone had given him a second chance when he was twelve”. 

“Oh sweetie, that’s just so wholesome now we just have to figure a way to put a smile on his face,” the elf smiled like she knew a secret and sipped on her wine.

A roaring laugh broke out across the room. One of the crowd shouted at the others in foreign language with a familiar clip to it, Ander.

That fellow stomped away from the group to the bar, slumping down at the very end with a scowl.

Fenris glanced at Hawke and Sebastian. They were still engaged in talk with the Matron so Fenris walked over to stand beside the man. The man was tall and wore leather garb. His light brown hair was cropped short as was his beard.

“I’m not interested in whores, especially not knife-eared men,” the man said without even looking over at Fenris. Fenris tensed in distaste.

“I am not employed here”, Fenris said but held back anything else as he wanted something from the man. The man looked over at him, still scowling.

“No I suppose you’re not with that armor and carrying a sword like that. Can you even lift that thing with your dainty little elf arms.” the man jeered.

“Well enough”, Fenris said, scowling back.

“Hmmm. Well if you aren’t whoring what do you want?” the man said, absently playing his beard.

“Was that Ander you were speaking a moment ago?” Fenris asked.

The man smirked slyly. “Sure. It’s my mother tongue. What business is it of yours?”

“Would you be able to translate something for me?”, Fenris asked.

“What’s in it for me elf?”, the man smirked.

“This round? It’s very little to translate”, Fenris said. The man nodded and ordered a flagon of dark ale and after taking a sip gestured to Fenris to continue.

“First ‘Lass mich dich küssen, dich lutschen’. Also the word ‘Bitte’,” Fenris said. The Ander choked on his ale and gave him a dirty look.

“Verdammt! I thought you weren’t whoring elf”, the man said with a cough. Fenis did not react to his display.

“We had a deal. What does it mean?”, Fenris replied.

“I suppose I should be upset an Ander girl fancies a knife ear but it’s sort of funny how clueless you are,” he took a large gulp from the flagon and after a deep breath and belch he continued, “It means ‘let me kiss you. Let me suck you. ‘ and the last bit is ‘please’. She’s a polite hussy at least”. The man laughed to himself as he walked back across the hall to his companions.  
  
Fenris went absolutely still. The Mage had said that? Fenris had expected something lewd considering how out of sorts the man would get. Fenris was used to such comments from humans, usually. He was not used to being begged for kisses... or offered that. He recalled the way the Mage had sucked on his fingers, he certainly had skill with his mouth for more than just mouthing off. Kisses, the Mage had seemed very focused on kisses. It gave Fenris a warm feeling, like drinking tea on a cold day.

As if just thinking of the man were a ritualistic summons, a familiar peel of laughter caught Fenris’s sensitive elven ear. It had come from down a nondescript doorway beside the bar and within a few paces of Fenris. He glanced around. The Matron, Hawke and Sebastian were still in discussion. Isabela was across the room but caught his eye, watching him as if he were going to send her a signal of some sort. Not knowing what would be the appropriate signal for the investigation he planned he simply went about quietly slipping through the door. As he closed it behind he noticed Isabela, her eyes widened slightly in surprise. 

The door latch closed with a click and Fenris turned around. He was in a hallway with doors on either side and a large opening at the end which appeared to be a kitchen. Near the kitchen two children sat playing some sort of game on the floor with pieces of metal and a ball. A woman exited a room near the children carrying a crying baby to the kitchen. Thefancy artifice of the brothel fell away to the mundane in this hallway. ‘They are just people...’ the Mage’s voice repeated in his head. 

Being on this side without the clatter of the hall he could make out distinct voices, one very familiar just two doors to the left so Fenris approached it and slowly opened it. It was the Mage, but he was not alone.

The blond lent over a bed, more specifically he lent over the prone form of a nearly naked elven woman whose arms were bound behind her back. He held one of her ankles close to her buttocks so that her knee was bent sharply and he was wrapping a cord around it. There were three others on the bed but Fenris only had eyes for the Mage. The warmth he had felt earlier turned into fire. He propelled his battle-honed body across the space of the room to grasp the tall human around the shoulder and spin him roughly around to fall back on the bed beside Cora, gauntleted fingers caging the Mage’s pale wrists. Wide brown eyes stared up at him, then narrowed.

Maker’s balls, what the fuck Fenris?!”, the Mage shouted.

***

  
Anders had been tired from the ordeal last night and he really wished he could shirk his regular afternoon at ‘The Blooming Rose’ but considering that the Lowtown Massacre had wiped out his supply of herbs and potions he forced himself along for want of the coin which would help for supplies, that is once supplies were to be had. It had been fortunate he had purchased that prophet's laurel the other day, it had made the difference between life and death for several people and he doubted he would see it again anytime soon.

Anders had felt cheerful despite his fatigue. He had not lost any further patients in the night and all had been well enough by morning to leave, but what really had got him humming a happy tune as he made his way to hightown was the warrior elf. 

The elf had been bossy but gentle. Even weakened as he had been from blood loss he managed to give comfort when Anders was overwhelmed with grief. He might have felt embarrassed about it but the elf had not mentioned it even when they shouted at each other. 

They had started in on what felt like was the beginnings of one of their regular spats, but it had ended better than he could have imagined. He had forgotten how wonderful it was not to not fall asleep alone. His dreams did not trouble him. Lirene had informed him Fenris had invited him to the mansion this evening. He looked forward to making use of the bathtub but he could not help but contemplate the possibilities with the elf.

Perhaps Jethann could spare some silk ropes? At the grumbling of disgust from Justice. ‘Andraste’s spotted panties, unused rope, Justice’, he thought to the Spirit. Though he would have to think of something else to barter with, the coin was needed for the clinic. He contemplated how he would convince him as he walked.

When he had gotten to the back entrance of ‘The Blooming Rose’ he had been met with crying. Sabina had been sitting out back, her already terrible makeup made worse by her tears. She recounted how her son had been taken away by the guard earlier in the day for stealing from Katriela. The boy had puffed himself up about wanting to join the Coterie when he grew up but Anders figured that was just the sort of talk Brothel children had to learn to keep themselves safe. When he brought it up she sobbed even more. Apparently the Coterie had given the child a spot of justice when everyone else had failed him. Of course he was too young to appreciate how they meant to use him in return for their ‘kindness’.

Anders resolved to convince Katriela to give the boy a second chance.

That was how he found himself binding Cora with silk rope while Jethann and Katriela mimicked his technique on Leonato. It was a good thing he was actually decent at teaching, not that they had let him teach too often in the Tower for fear that he would corrupt apprentices with his wildness. 

“I wouldn’t mind you helping me test out this later Healer,” Jethann said in a suggestive tone, “make sure I get a firm grasp of the techniques”.

Anders laughed. “Tempting but no. I don’t play like that with my patients”.

“Aww, well it looks like you’re playing with someone, or hoping too with how you’ve polished up since you were last here”, Leonato grinned up from where he lay bound between Katriela Jethann.

“Look, he’s blushing, how sweet”, Katriela said with an entertained lilt.

“Come on Healer, tell us. I love a good romance”, Cora said from beneath him.

“There’s nothing to tell”, Anders gnawed his lip with a grin.

“You are a horrible liar Healer”, Jethann smiled, “but keep you secrets and have fun with the silk ropes” he added with a wink. The others laughed.

Anders cleared his throat. “Alright now that we’ve secured the arms to harness we can bind an ankle to a thigh. Is this comfortable Cora?” Anders asked.

“Yes, it’s fine Healer”, she responded.

“Good. Now let me know if it gets uncomfortable at all,” he instructed while beginning to wrap the cord.

Two strong hands gripped him at the shoulders, pulling him from his task. He found himself pinned to the bed. He looked up into familiar furious eyes. 

“Maker’s balls, what the fuck Fenris?!”, the Mage yelled.

“Healer!” Katriela screamed.

“Someone go get the enforcers!” Leonato shouted.

“Wait! Just every stop for a minute. Get off me you voided elf,” Anders said irritated at the elf and worried about attracting attention in Hightown. He pulled against the warrior’s steel grip and tried to buck with his hips. At the resistance the fury in the elf’s face broke to confusion and he jumped off of Anders. Anders waved back Jethann who seemed about to throw some sort of flask at Fenris.

The warrior stood off in the corner even more hunched over on himself than normal, shifting feet and looking everywhere but at anyone’s face. ‘Good’ thought Anders. At least he was ashamed of himself.  
  
“What’s going on?,” Cora asked, frightened. 

“Jealous boyfriend,” Jethann answered.

“Oh is that all? How’d he get back here?” she responded. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.”Anders said as he stood up, then when standing and smoothing out his cloths added ,”Really Fenris, what the fuck? I’m working here”.

“You son of a bitch Anders, I’m going to beat the tar out of you!” Isabela’s annoyed voice carried across the room, ”I’ve buttomed my lip for years and you don’t even tell me when you start being a working man again? You better be planning an orgy and I better be invited” She was flanked by Hawke and Sebastian whose twin expressions of shock would have had Anders roaring with laughter in any other circumstance. 

“You are working … as a prostitute?” Fenris said with his face as unreadable as stone.

“Again?” Hawke asked loudly.

“An orgy?” Jethann said with interest.

“Maker’s breath…,” Sebastian sighed, forehead heavy in his palm.

In that moment Anders had a brief sense of calm as he struggled to process exactly what had just happened, but when it all crashed together in his head he could react only one way. Panic.

“No! I mean not since- gah! Maker blast it to the void and back Isabela!” Anders floundered. 'Maker's fucking balls' he thought.

Hawke had the decency to at least try to to suppress his raucous laughter. 

“Opps,” the pirate said pursing her lips contritely before laying eyes on Cora and grinning lecherously.

“How are all these people getting back here? This area is off limits to patrons”, said Katriela. 

“Oh, we’re all a bit Roguish”, Isabela said with a flirty wink.

The Chantry Brother straightened up and with a pompous air and appeared about to deliver one of his lectures or privileged insights. Anders wasn’t sure which would be worse but he was not going to let that happen in front of the good people of ‘The Rose’.

“No!,” Anders said sharply, wagging a finger at him and with a sweeping motion adding “Alright, all of you out. Now. That means you too, you salty pirate.”

“Oh boo, you’re no fun” she pouted but still moved left. Anders thwacked her on the bottom. 

She gave a yelp and then skipped ahead, “ That display and a spanking? Stop teasing me Anders.” she smiled at him. Though her words were frivolous, the look she gave him was searching. He smiled back at her before turning around.

“My darling students, just give me a moment to clear this up would you?” he said with an excessively bright flourish and closed the door. There were kids by the kitchen sulking into their rooms with wary eyes trained on the group. 

When he turned around Hawke was flashing a toothy grin, “So Anders, do you have any more nuggets of wisdom for Merrill and I?”. 

“Here’s one: get everyone out of here. Like the lovely Katriela said, this place isn’t meant for patrons”, Anders said unamused. He turned sharply to Sebastian, “and you, whatever comment is burning your tongue to get out of your mouth, let it burn to ashes there. You are in someone’s else’s home right now. Be respectful.”

“I hardly think-,” Sebastian started.

“I asked Hawke not to bring you to the Clinic because your side comments in Darktown made an old lady cry”. Anders interrupted bluntly. The Brother turned an inquiring eye to Hawke who rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. His lack of denial, clear.

“I did not intend that”, Sebastian said, subdued. 

Anders softened a bit at the crestfallen look and added, “She's fine, we Fereldans are made of stern stuff. Just think a bit more before you spout off when you are not in your element.” He turned back to Hawke.

“So Hawke, what did you want?”, Anders asked.

“I’m taking Merrill, Isabela, Fenris and the two elven children of Evaline to Sundermount tomorrow. I was going to come see you at the clinic later to tell you not to work yourself to death while I’m gone and see if you needed anything after last night”. Hawke answered with a relaxed demeanor. .

Anders smiled, “I’m glad they are getting out of Darktown. You know the herbs I need for potions, I got wiped out yesterday so whatever you can find will be welcome.”

“Between you and Solivitus I’m going to be bringing home half the green from the mountain”, Hawke smiled and Anders couldn’t help but return it.

“I wish I could offer to go with you but things are going to be desperate here for a while”Anders said. 

“Yeah, I figured. You, Aveline, Varric and Sebastian are going to be holding this cursed city together while I’m gone”, Hawke said. Everyone chuckled a bit. 

“Hey, we haven’t been able to find any family for that baby you brought me, do you remember the house?”, Anders asked.

Hawke paled slightly and solemnly said, “I’m afraid I will never forget that house. Ask Varric for help. He was there and has a wide network of people who may be able to help”.

“Great. While you're gone would it be alright for me to keep her at your estate for a bit? I’d like to get her out of the Darktown air if I can and I don’t think Bodahn will mind”, Anders asked hopefully.

Hawke snapped out of his dark thoughts at that. He was always fond of children and would often reminisce with mixed joy and sadness about helping with the twins when he was young. “That’s fine Anders, the place can always use a bit more cheer. I’ll let Bodahn know tonight”. He smiled at Anders. 

“I better get back before they end up deciding to tie me up and leave me for the stray dogs to eat”, Anders said with a laugh and turned to open the door.

“Mage I-”, Fenris began.

Anders cut in briskly, “If you like you may wait at the bar and I will speak with you after”. 

Anders turned and closed the door behind them.

***

  
Anders sided up to the bar beside the mourose warrior elf. 

“I’ll take a stout”, he said. “You’re buying. Make it the good Dwarven one”. The elf nodded and Anders ordered from Quintus who placed a large foam topped tankard in front of Anders with a nod and smile on his whiskered face.

“I apologize. I should not have touched you like that”, Fenris said without meeting Anders eyes.

“Damn right”, Anders said. Though the apology lessoned his ire. 

Anders took a hearty swallow of his brew and observed the warrior’s profile with his keen Healer’s eye. The normally healthily tanned olive skin was dulled with a near grey-green hue, no doubt a consequence of the significant blood loss and incomplete healing. He really should not be out and about today. While Anders could read much about the elf’s health from his face, it was as blank of expression as a statue. Yet his posture and constant shifting betrayed his agitation. 

A bark of laughter from across the room caught the elf’s attention. It was a tall, rugged man raising a mug to the elf. Fenris frowned at him and turned away. 

“I do not know why I lost control and reacted like that”, Fenris said. He watched intently as he tapped the metal tip of his gauntlet against the half drunk glass of wine he had between his hands on the bar.

“Hmm, I could venture a few guesses. You’re buying dinner tonight by the way, I’ll make a list of ingredients”, Anders said. Fenris turned as if to ask but before he could Anders felt bony arms squeeze him around the middle and release quickly.

“Thank you Healer. Katriela is going with me to the Keep now”, Sabina said, her face looked different perked in a smile. It was sad this was the first time Anders could think of seeing her look happy. 

“Let me know if you have any troubles, I may know people who know people if you know what I mean”, Anders offered. She nodded and walked briskly through the door behind the bar.

When he returned his gaze to Fenris the elf was actually looking directly at him. It was only an instant, he turned his eyes away when Anders met them, but the look of near wonder he gave Anders gave him a warm fluttery feeling he hadn’t felt in ages. It was not fair that the elf could do that with just a look. 

“You will be coming to the mansion?” Fenris asked with an almost delicate hopefulness. 

“Of course. I’m not going to leave you in pain and you’ll need a healing if Hawke is dragging you up to Sundermount,” Anders said. “Besides, you owe me a bath”. Anders laughed. Fenris just gave him that look again. Was this some sort of secret technique to incapacitate mages?

“Healer, please come help”, Cora sided up to Anders,” That 50 silver idiot Leonato decided to try the bindings on a client and something went wrong”. 

Anders sighed, “Alright, alright. Fenris I’ll be right back”.

When he walked on the scene a poor fellow was constricted around the arms so much they were turning purple and Leonato was fretting terribly. Anders untied the client and the fellow stormed out. 

“Leonato come here, you saw what you did wrong? Try that out on me now and be quick” Anders said. 

***

After a bit the brunette stepped in front of Anders with a nervous look which reminded him of an apprentice trying to learn a spell. Anders tested his bonds. They were firm but comfortable, forearms bound together so that one hand was near the elbow of the opposite arm. Critically, they did not slide leading to painful pinching. 

“You did it Leonato”, Anders said with an approving nod to his ‘student’. Leonato beamed.

“Oh look, a new whore” a contemptuous voice called from the doorway, “here I was fancying a blond and one’s all tied up like a present for me”. Anders’ blood ran cold as Justice when he looked up and saw three Templars standing in the doorway. 

‘ _They will not touch you_ ’, Justice’s voice said resolutely in his head, ‘ _I will not allow it_ ’.

***

  
Fenris sat at the bar and waited for the Mage, stewing in thought. Even though he had not harmed the Mage, the loss of control earlier was profoundly disturbing. So too was the unfamiliar, near suffocating feelings which had washed over him. Anger he knew. Anger was comfortable by itself. There were so many new feelings he was starting to have while trying to learn to be free. The problem was he did not have a point of reference to identify them all and the Mage inspired so many all at once. After befriending Hawke he had hoped he would be able to learn to adapt but perhaps some parts of him had been broken irrevocably by the Magisters.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when he felt a prickling pull on his markings putting him on high alert. The Mage had used magic in a building full of Templars. This did not bode well. He moved quickly up the stairs. Another sting to his markings told him which room to look in.

“Let him go”, the Mage hissed.

Three Templars cornered the Mage, cruel mirth written on their faces. One of the workers from earlier had his arm wrenched behind his back. The Mage had a wild look of fear and fury, shreds of rope were scattered about. 

The Templars turned to Fenris when the door opened, “This is a private party elf, get out”.

Anders used the distraction to punch the Templar holding the worker in the throat, causing him to drop the worker and gasp for breath. Anders shouted “Run! While you can!” The worker fled past Fenris out of the room. The biggest Templar grabbed the Mage in a headlock. 

“You’re a feisty fellow, whore or not this is going to be fun” the Templar laughed.

The third Temple, seeing to his injured friend, missed the blue fire erupting from Anders’ eyes and jagged lines in his skin. A Mindblast slammed the brute on Anders into the wall so hard it shook the floor. He fell heavy and motionless to the floor, a pile of meat and metal but still breathing.

“ **You shall not have him** ,” the mingled otherworldly voice called out from the Mage’s mouth. 

“Shit!” the third Templar got out before Fenris bashed the pommel of his sword across his head, knocking him unconscious. The remaining Templar, still struggling to breath, was surrounded by the punishing telekinetic force a paralyzing prison and so quickly joined his friend unconscious via pommel strike. 

The Mage fell to his knees, the cracks in his skin disappeared and reappeared in flashes like sunlight glinting on the sea. His eyes fluctuated between his normal brown and the eerie blue glow. 

“The danger is past, control yourself, control HIM”, Fenris bid him but kept his distance from the unstable magics. 

“I- I can’t. It’s too much. I can’t go back there. They will hang me or worse. Oh Maker! I have to leave. I have to go”, the blond sprang up and paced like a caged animal, the ambient magic around him making Fenris’s markings hum pleasantly. The Mage stopped at the window and looked out, still. Fenris had the hope he had calmed himself but that hope turned to alarm as the Mage suddenly and without preamble vaulted over the windowsill.  
  
“Fasta vass!” Fenris exclaimed and rushed to the window. The Mage had landed in a back alley. He must have landed wrong for he stumbled on an injured leg. Thankfully it was a disused alley as the out of control Mage was casting healing magics on himself. Fenris felt the pull to his markings more faintly because of the distance between him and Anders. The Mage took off running. 

‘The fool is going to get himself taken in by the guard’, Fenris thought before leaping below to begin pursuit. The Mage ran fast on his long legs but even fueled by the power of his demon Fenris overtook him easily. He grabbed the blond and pulled him into an alcove between houses. It was not a moment too soon as a pair of guards on patrol had just turned the corner.

“Fenris! I have to get away. I can’t be near peo **ple while we come together. We are dangerous right now** ,” Anders' gentle but frightened voice morphed as he spoke into a deep, chilling resonance. He lit up and stayed burning an icy blue which thrummed through Fenris. He shivered as the tingle of gooseflesh covered him completely.

“Anders you must calm down now”, Fenris directed.

Fenris chanced a look around the wall. The guards were walking this way and a glance around yielded no viable escape routes. Anders continued to blaze and Fenris had one idea, an idea which already had him feeling guilty. He pressed up close to the Mage in order to cover as much of him from view as possible. He covered the Mage’s mouth with one hand and sunk the other into his chest.

The Mage’s face looked as if it were enveloped in blue flame for an instant. It was more intense than Fenris had ever seen the Abomination change, but the glow quickly faded until it was only wisps of blue in the back of his eyes. The Mage closed them, his screams muffled by Fenris’s hand. Fenris could feel the pull on his hand from the Mage biting down on his gauntlet and a bruising grip to his upper arms.

He withdrew his hand from the Mage carefully. It was no easy task to maintain his focus as the flare of raw magic had quickened him partially to the point his tight leather leggings were uncomfortable. It was not something he could afford to think about at the moment. Once extracted fully the Mage sagged against the wall. Fenris relaxed the grip he had over the man’s mouth and moved the arm to support under the Mage’s arm. 

“You, elf. What is going on here?” one of the guardsmen asked, hand on the pommel of his sword.

“Good afternoon Serah. My friend here just had a bit too much to drink. I’m just seeing him home.” Fenris said. His heart pounded, hoping the picture Anders painted was convincing enough. At least they were human and would not smell the Mage’s release, he hoped. He did not want to strike down good men protecting the peace over a mage and abomination, but he knew he would, for this Mage. 

“Well be quick about it then elf. Or I’ll have to take him in,” the guard grumbled but moved on. Relief washed over him. He adjusted his grip on the lanky human, preparing to maneuver the Mage to the mansion and allow him to recover there. As they came away from the wall he felt the human’s head lulled on his shoulder, his loose hair tickling the side of his throat. 

He was just about ready to pull the Mage into the street when he felt a hot lick to his sensitive ear. Fenris gasped and the blond made a pleased sound which vibrated the delicate shell of his ear as he gently nipped it. Fenris felt the Mage turn to be in front of him, the arm which Fenris had been supporting slid down so that the hand cradled the back of his neck while the other hand directed Fenris backwards by the hip until he was now the one against the wall. The mage seemed so much taller now, his large hands felt secure. The heat of a human mouth began to lavish attention on Fenris’s ear from lobe to tip. The intensity of it had Fenris panting, his arousal press uncomfortably in his tight leather leggings. The wet suction to his ear disappeared. Fenris could not suppress a whine. 

“Hübscher Mann, du bist mein Held. Wie kann ich meine Wertschätzung zeigen?(1)”, Anders purred Ander into his ear as he pressed himself against Fenris. Even through their layers he could feel the Mage’s arousal rocking against his own.

He is not himself.

“Anders stop”, Fenris said firmly.

The hands instantly released him and the Mage backed away a step. Eyes like sun kissed tea met his, Anders had a flushed, wild look to him. 

“Anders?”, Fenris asked.

The Mage shook his head then grabbed it with a hand. “Fenris?”

“Are you well?” Fenris asked. 

“Yes, I-, yes. Thank you. I don’t know how to thank you,” Anders said.

“What happened”,Fenris asked.

“I’m not entirely sure. I just got so angry and afraid”, Anders said and looked around, “I don’t think we should be talking about it in the streets though”.

“True,” Fenris said, watching the Mage squirm as he adjusted his pants.

“I need to get a change of clothes at any rate,” he said with a grimace, “I suppose it really is becoming a habit”.

“Hmm?” Fenris raised an eyebrow.

“You making me mess my smalls in public,'' Anders laughed. 

Fenris felt the coil of shame at having done that without expressed permission and said, “I could not think of anything else to do”.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s not alright, but it’s not your fault either. I’d rather have a mess in my pants than iron on my wrists followed by a noose on my neck so thank you, again”, Anders smiled.

Fenris could only nod.

“I’ll bring something to cook tonight for supper,” Anders said.

“I will see you tonight then” Fenris said.

“Yes, tonight”, Anders smiled before starting for the stairs to Lowtown. Fenris adjusted himself and made for his mansion.

  
***

  
1\. Handsome man, you are my hero. How can I show my appreciation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like Sabina's brat was meant to be a quest which got dropped in development so I gave Anders the quest and flushed the minor characters out a bit.
> 
> I hope that was ok. The next chapter will be rated E. Fenris and Anders have some time alone ...


	16. The Taste of Honey and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get some Anders slice of life, the boys deal with some of their issues, and I've written naughty things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. My video card broke and I had to pause writing. 
> 
> Thank you my lovelies for the comments and kudos. They are very motivating. 
> 
> Warnings: brief flashbacks of sexual abuse/rape and abuse including of a minor, PTSD, panic attacks

Chapter 16: The Taste of Honey and Blood

‘What in the void happened?’ Anders thought as he ambled awkwardly down the stairs from hightown after ‘The Rose Incident’. An overwhelming chaos and power had overtaken them. He longed to confer with his other half but Justice was still quiet, far too engrossed in his song to do more than rumble like a contented cat in the back of Anders’ mind. When the Spirit became more cognizant they would have much to discuss. 

It had felt like when they had first joined together, a unnatural merging of minds and a blinding surge of raw magical energy. Once again the event had been precipitated by an intense rage towards blasted Templars. Yet somehow what Fenris was able to do had pulled them further apart again. It was a curious reaction. He wondered for the first time if this strange touch of Fenris’s, it had such power over them, over their very beings. Even if it had saved them today, might it not have some danger to it? To have anyone weld such power over his very personality. The thought was an unwelcome one in the wake of his relief and he push it aside as best he could.

He returned to the Clinic briefly to clean himself up and change. Lirene was there watching the baby sleep and mending clothes. Fabric was costly so it was generous of Hawke to donate all those torn trousers and such to the clinic to be passed on to the most needy and it was generous of Lirene to take the time to mend it. If she had noticed his awkward gait she was kind enough not to say anything. He had taken to wearing smalls since he had started wearing pants but the mess still chaffed uncomfortably from the long walk in the heat. 

He updated her on the plans for the baby while he took the opportunity to check the child over. Lirene was pleased at the notion of the baby staying outside of Darktown, both for the little girl's health but also to free up time for herself and her few volunteers. 

Before leaving Darktown he stopped in to check on Evelina and her family. The two little elvhen children seemed healthy enough for the journey tomorrow, albeit unhappy to be leaving Evelina. Evelina’s oldest boy Walter was excited. Varic had apparently already found a job as a delivery boy. The large family seemed much less miserable in the little burrow they had claimed for themselves in the Undercity.

Afterwards he made his way to Lowtown. He stopped at the ‘Hanged Man’ first to see Varric to thank him about Walter and ask about locating relatives of the baby. The Dwarf looked as harried as Anders felt but he still smiled and joked until they both had had the sort of laugh that you feel in your sides afterwards. Varric promised to get some of his people looking into the situation with the child.

With that, Anders headed over to the Market. As expected herbs were sold out but he was able to find plenty of foodstuffs. A healthy meal to those who often went hungry could be even more effective than potions or magic. 

As he was about to leave light twinkling off a shelf of bottles caught his eye. There were all shapes and colors of bottles. The one he was looking at was an unassuming brown. Dwarven meade, honey-sweet and strong. He thought about how the elf seemed to have a bit of a sweet tooth but still drank all that dry wine. Maybe he had never tried honey wine? With Justice still too out of it to object, he made his purchase. 

When he got back to the Clinic he started a large pot of stew and smaller, more potent, pot of meat and vegetable gravy over the fire. He lit the Lanterns for a while. He offered food and healing to the sick. It was not as busy as he feared, but still had him jumping between patients into the evening before he turned out the Lanterns. 

Helping to care for the little girl had been the best part of the Clinic today. She was sweet and old enough to give a curious look to the world around her. The only trouble was she was also old enough to miss her mother. She repeated ‘ma’ over and over with a look of distress. Unfortunately this was not the first orphan the clinic volunteers had worked with. They each took turns comforting and distracting her. Anders even summoned a whisp once. The cool glow lit up her eyes and mesmerized her. 

At least physically the girl was healthy. She devoured the diet they had made for her. Mushed up chicken liver and green beans necessitated another change in clothing for Anders. He took a moment to retie his hair and apply a bit more kohl around his eyes. There was only one clean shirt left, he wore one of his more threadbare cotton tunics, albeit one Lirene has recently mended. It was worn soft and faded blue in color. He smiled and ran his fingers over the little white embroidered stars around a patch at the hem that peaked out from under his coat. 

It made him think of the small pillow hidden in the secret pouch by his heart and he wondered if Lirene and his mother would have been friends. He imagined them chatting together over their fibercrafts. It was a bittersweet thought. Mother had just begun teaching Gisila embroidery. His little sister looked so much like their mother. He wondered if she carried on with it, if mother had lived long enough after he was taken for that. Anders found himself momentarily melancholy before he distracted himself with packing to leave for Hightown. 

***

Anders walked his aching feet up yet another flight of stairs on his way to Hightown. He had been fretting in every idle moment, which considering the hectic pace of his day was actually not all that often. Now though, the quiet of the evening as this part of the city wound down and the freshness of the cool sea breeze let his mind wander to the events of the last few days.

So now Anders stood in front of the mansion. He shuffled his sore feet and adjusted his bundles nervously for the third time. He finally opened the heavy wooden door. When he closed it behind him the quiet murmurs of the evening street were completely muffled and it felt like he had slipped into another world, a possibly haunted one. The unused halls breaking off from the main hall seemed endless corridors of darkness and the very air felt heavy.

“Fenris?” Anders called out as he made his way towards the Elf’s room. A spiky shadow, back lit by the firelight filled the doorway above the stairs. He looked ominous and his continued silence was nerve racking.

“Am I still welcome tonight or are you about to throw me out on my magnificent ass?”Anders tried to be glib to cover his unease.

“I was beginning to think you and your ass might have other plans this evening,” the warrior’s deep voice echoed in the quiet hall and sent a shiver down Anders’ spine. Anders always knew Fenris was objectively handsome but his hatred of mages had dimmed the elf’s appeal. Over this last week that impression had changed.

The elf shaped shadow emerged into the torchlight and rested a gauntleted hand against the balcony. His face was ashen. He really shouldn’t have been galavanting with Hawke today, let alone getting into fights. Though the memory of how the elf had bashed the heads of those Templars was one of the most dashing things Anders had ever seen and right now the elf seemed the most handsome man in all Thedas. Being rescued from Templars had always been one of his favorite fantasies. The memory lit a fire low in his belly and he chided himself for acting like a wide-eyed apprentice with a first crush. 

“Sorry I’m late. In Darktown a healer's work is never done”, Anders said and shrugged,”I brought supper but it needs a bit of a warm up”. He said, holding up a sack.

“I kept the coals going since the last time”, the elf said.

“Excellent. I wanted to make a little something sweet later. This I can just…” Anders said and wiggled the fingers of his free hand at the sack he had already presented. “That is if you don’t mind. It’s faster and I’d like to finish your healing right after if you would be alright with the…,”Anders wiggled his fingers again”, I wanted to offer earlier, especially with you traipsing off to Sundermont tomorrow, but things turned into a blighted clusterfuck. Ha! A clusterfuck in a brothel. Anyways is it alright?”, Anders said. ‘Oh Maker, stop talking Anders’, he thought.

“The healing and supper would be welcome”, Fenris said after a pause. The only response to Anders' nervous babble was a dark quirk of an eyebrow. “Come, join me in my room Mage”. Fenris walked back into his room. Anders followed.

***

They sat beside the fireplace in Fenris’s room. Supper was a thick gravy of minced beef, chicken liver, potatoes, vegetables, and the few cheap but strong spices Anders could afford. They sopped it up with crusty bread. Anders was glad he had packed extra for again he found he could not control his hunger, devouring enough for two men before able to even notice the look of shock on the elf’s face. He was suddenly highly aware of the fact that he was sucking the juices from his thumb and making an indecent sound of enjoyment. When Anders met his eyes the elf quickly averted his eyes and now gazed intently into the embers of the fire.

“I don’t recall seeing you eat like this except perhaps the last time we broke camp on the Coast”, Fenris said. His voice was relaxed.

“Erm, sorry. It’s part of the whole Grey Warden... thing. Increased appetites to match increased stamina,” Anders laughed. “Maybe you just haven’t eaten around me much when we aren’t rationing on a trip”.

“I suppose not. Though you could stand to eat like this more often. You are too thin for such a tall human”, Fenris said.

“Hey now, I’m what they call svelte. It’s just a bit difficult to tuck into so much food when you know there are people literally starving a stone's throw from the Clinic”, Anders said as he pulled out a dark brown bottle from a pack. ”You should be eating more yourself. This recipe is meant to invigorate the blood. It will have lasting effects that my magic will not.” Anders said. 

“This was- thoughtful. It is appreciated”, Fenris returned.

“I’ve still got enough muscle to carry your grumpy ass around the city at any rate”. Anders grinned, feeling cheeky.

“That is true. It was impressive,” Fenris said and with a trace wry upturn to his mouth, “for a Mage”. Anders felt unnecessarily fluttery inside. It was a baffling muddle of pride and indignation.

“Oh, bullshit ‘for a Mage’. All those sexy warrior muscles are heavy, you know,” Anders smiled as the elf twitched. Cute. It was bizarre that the murder elf could be so cute. 

“What happened today?” Fenris asked in a careful tone.

“You’ll have to be more specific. It’s been a long fucking day”, Anders said streching.

“When those Templar’s attacked you, that wasn’t like when you’ve had your Spirit come forth in battle before,” Fenris clarified.

“Aw, here I was hoping you’d want to learn more about my naughty knots lesson plans. You sure seemed interested in restraining me at the time”, Anders slipped into his nonchalant, flirty humor which had charmed him out of so much trouble in the tower. The elf wasn’t buying it.

“Fasta Vass Mage! Just answer the question,” Fenris growled in irritation,” It was different, uncontrolled. You looked terrified”.

“It was the blighted Templars,” Anders cursed. 

“You have fought Templars before and not lost control like that”, Fenris stated.

“Well they weren’t backing me into a corner trying to rape me then,”Anders bite out in irritation then sighed, undoing his hairtie just to retie it so he could have something to do with his hands. “Look, I’m not exactly sure. I was angry but I’m always angry with Templars. I think it was the fear. Justice and I sort of build on each other emotionally and magically. Being threatened in that particular way, Justice- well, he wanted justice. It was only ever like that once before when we first joined. Templar’s were trying to murder us for the sin of existing then. I was a Grey Warden. They had no fucking right to touch me, not anymore”. Anders' voice choked at the end and he felt his heart pounding.

“I thought...you told Sebastian you were fortunate”, Fenris said softly.

Memories flooded his mind. Justice was far too distant to help stem the tide and Anders felt like he was drowning in them. ‘ _You’re a pretty little spitfire aren’t you? It’s a long way to the tower boy. You best keep quiet and do as you’re told or else you might not make it there. Not that anyone would care’, the Templar laughed, moonshine on his breath, and backhanded Anders hard enough he fell to the muddy ground. ‘You want extra lessons? Nothing's free. What do you have to trade?’ the enchanter smiled knowingly. Rylock’s face as she moaned beneath him morphed into her cruel glare from above as he was made to kneel. ‘After chasing you across half of Ferelden we find you in a brothel? If you want to be a whore you can entertain the men with what you learned on the way back to the Tower. After the whip of course’, Rylock’s voice was full of spite. ‘If you don't, maybe I lose your daily ration,’ Biff laughed, loosening his armor. The silence of the dungeon was so maddening Anders would have done it anyway just to have a real person to talk to for a while, even a jerk like Biff._

An icy feeling spread through him, and he struggled to breath. He looked down. His hands were shaking. He would not let the mage hating elf see him upset like this, not about this. Helping him through grief of losing patients to a massacre was one thing but this...this was too close to every single ugly fight they had ever had. He would not be called a monster now. 

“I’m alive. I still have the parts of myself that make me ME. If you ever fucking listen to me you'd know that's incredibly lucky. Maker's balls, I’m not talking about this,” Anders gritted out. He could feel the elf watching him. It was painful as stinging rashvine nettles and he barreled away towards the door.

"Anders I...," Fenris started with a soft voice but Anders did not want to hear it.

“No. Just fucking no." Anders cut him off. He could feel the elf watching him. It was painful as stinging rashvine nettles and he barreled away towards the door. I’m just going to go make those voided sweets. Forget this conversation by the time I get back,'' Anders called without looking back. He painfully tried to force cheer in his voice but it only made him sound unhinged to his own ears as he fled the room. He made his way to the kitchen, the heavy footfalls of his boots thunderous in the stillness of the halls. 

***

Anders threw the pan of oil over the coals in the hearth and started dicing the apples. The familiar, mundane task was comforting and he soon found the tension in his face release and his breathing even out. He had just got to mixing the ingredients for the batter when he heard the whine of the kitchen door as it opened.

“Mage?”, the warrior almost whispered.

“I’ll be up with this in a few minutes,” Anders said without looking over. He felt his breath want to speed up and cold sweat on his brow. His agitation made his movements rough, frantic. 

“Damn it!” he cursed under his breath. He cracked the egg too hard and the shell crumbled into the batter. As he tried to fish the pieces out with the wooden spoon he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He had not heard the stealthy, barefoot elf move and the touch startled him so much that he spun around brandishing the spoon like a weapon. Fenris had backed up a step and stood as still as a statue. His green eyes were so large when widened in surprise. He had removed his armor and wore leggings and an overly large shirt. Anders’ shirt. A thick glob of batter had landed across his nose. It started to drip to the floor. 

The ridiculousness struck Anders and he started laughing. The spoon clattered to the floor. He leant back against the work table and slid to the floor, elbows resting on bent up knees as he continued to laugh hard. He heard Fenris come close and slip down to sit beside him. The normally silent elf seemed to try to make noise with the movement but now just sat silently as Anders laughed. The laughter slowed until Anders was left hiccuping and drained. 

“Anders, are you, is there something I can do?”, the elf asked. Anders wiped his face and looked up. Fenris was not looking at Anders. His head was bowed and he held his gaze forward with a grim look of concentration. The elf was trying to help, awkwardly but trying. Anders could count on one hand the number of people he knew who might do the same. It made Anders feel more settled and more like himself- impulsive. Quick as a spirit bolt he pressed a kiss to Fenris’s smooth cheek. He could feel the muscle of Fenris's jaw clench then relax and the elf's white hair tickled against his face an instant before he pulled away. Immediately anxious about his own recklessness. 

Fenris looked surprised at first, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Then a small smile played over his mouth and he turned to Anders. He had wiped his nose but missed a spot just to the side of it. Someone so deadly should not be that adorable, it was just unfair. Anders relaxed, ‘well that was better than some of the violent reactions I’ve gotten’, thinking of the one time he had gotten drunk and tried to kiss Velanna. The roots binding him spread eagle to the ground had been fair enough. Leaving him like that all night had not. Nate’s threat of an arrow in the ass had just been uncalled for.

“You missed a spot”, he said and moved to wipe the batter off. Fenris’s skin was smooth and cool against Anders' warm fingers.

“What I fight for is not about me. It’s about all the things I’ve seen and the things I haven’t because they get hushed up. I can’t let it be about me or it would become vengeance and I'll lose myself”, Anders said.

“That seems no easy task”, said the warrior.

“No it isn’t”, Anders said, feeling the weariness from the truth. After a moment of companionable silence he felt a bit lighter and asked, “Do you want to help make apple fritters? I need to fish out the egg shell from the batter. Can you open that little honey pot?” Anders gestured at the small pot of honey the elder lady elf had gidted him with the other day.

Fenris gave a nod and asked, “What exactly is a ‘fritter’?”. Anders decided that puzzled Fenris was a new and dangerous type of cute.

***

  
Between them only half of the fritters made it up the stairs, fingers and lips sticky with honey. Ander’s had his Warden’s appetite of course. He had to smile at the normally dour warrior’s surprising sweet tooth as they returned to sitting by the fire where his eye caught on the brown bottle he had retrieved earlier.

“Ah, here,”Anders handed Fenris the dark brown bottle of meade, “I got something for us to drink but let me heal you up first”.

“What is it?”, Fenris held it in front of the firelight to examine it warily.

“Dwarven meade. Have you ever had it?”, Anders asked.

“No”, the elf said.

“It’s strong, and sweet. Made me think of you”, Anders said with a grin that got wider as Fenris let out a chuckle before he caught himself. The elf’s hand glowed blue for an instant as he slipped the quark out of the bottle. The elf leaned over so he gazed up at Anders from under his long white bangs. 

“Then heal me and we will drink”, the elf smile, little crinkles at the corners of his eyes. 

“Alright then”, Anders said and walked over to sit beside the elf on the bench. He pulled from the fade. Even with Justice indisposed he was able to draw from the Spirit and just above his had a ball of blue glowed. He brought his hand just in front of the warriors chest and allowed the small ball of Spirit energy to grow and diffuse into his patient. He could feel along the paths it traveled the arteries and bones. He directed it to stimulate the marrow to enrich the blood. Feeling the body like this was more intense than studying Tevinter anatomy scrolls for more precise creation magic. It was the difference between looking at a picture of the sea and swimming in it. 

A small, sharp intake of breath disturbed him. Fenris’s eyes were shut.

“What is wrong, is this hurting you somehow? Healing shouldn’t hurt”, Anders asked in concern. His hand came to rest on Fenris’s chest. He willed his magic to stop healing and instead seek out whatever problem the elf had been hiding even as he searched the elf’s face for visual cues. 

Then he realized what was happening with the elf.

“Oh”, Anders said. “You like this?” He slowly let the magic back into the elf’s bones to stimulate the marrow. The elf moaned, head drooping. “You really like this,” Anders said in amazement.

The elf’s eyes flew open and knocked Anders hand away, “Stop”, Fenris’s voice was rough.

Anders stopped pulling the magic and the blue glow faded leaving the gold firelight all the more intense. 

“I’m sorry. You could have told me,” Anders said.

“I wasn’t sure. This was stronger than before”, Fenris said.

“Does magic always do this to you?”, Anders asked in horror.

“No. I’ve always felt nearby magic in my markings but each type feels different from the other, usually unpleasant. Your blue healing spells were the only ones that were never painful. It has changed since we started doing whatever this is we are doing that takes my pain away. Fireballs don’t feel like a brand, just warmth. Now without the pain this healing is more intense”. Fenris said. The healing had returned his vitality, allowing him to blush furiously nose to ears. He gracefully leapt up and started pacing about the room.

“I do not like it. I do not like being made to feel things by magic, to not even know what my own emotions and desires are. Even these years trying to live as a free man have changed this only little. When I am feeling something I can not always easily put a name to it as a free man should. Even if I were to want someone, to need someone, how can I trust them when I cannot even trust myself. Magic has ruined me.” he spoke rapidly and continued stalking about. “How can I even fight like this? If you try to heal me you will incapacitate me. Even the change in physical sensations from the lack of pain almost got me killed the other day. I was slower and off balance even against the Coutere. Perhaps I need the pain. Perhaps I am meant to have it”. 

“Don’t say that. You just need time to adjust. I brought some things to help with the physical sensation changes. I will figure out how to help with the magic ones too.” Anders said. The part of him that was Justice stirred. Their resolve to aid the elf harmonized wordlessly within them, echoing like thunder in the mountains. “I will help you,” Anders said with conviction. 

“Why?” Fenris questioned. He stopped pacing and wore an expression of fatigue.

“Because I can. Because it is Just. Because I like it when you smile and want you to do it more. I guess that means because we are friends. Maybe. If you want.” Anders rambled.

Fenris just stared at Anders like he was looking for something. 

“It’s probably a bad idea, I have a lot of those. I’m probably not the sort you’d want as a friend. I’m a dangerous man with all the magic and Justice and whatnot”, Anders continued and ran his fingers back and forth over the mending on the hem of his tunic. 

“I’m not certain I know what it is to be friends. It has only been a word to me until 3 years ago”, Fenris said. He returned to retrieve the mead and took a tentative sip. His eyes widened minutely and he took another. “This I like”, he said.

“Good” Anders said, still playing with his hem and ducking his head to hide what he knew must be a goofy smile.

“You lied before, about your previous occupation,” Fenris said.

“Oh, ah- no. I mislead”, Anders answered, flustered at the sudden change in topic.”I really did work as the healer there, I just also provided ‘special’ services from time to time. You never know how someone will react so I don’t tell people if I can help it”.

“I’m sorry you had to do that”, Fenris said, eyes pinched in thought.

“I’m not,”Anders said and plopped the meade on the table to accentuate the point. Fenris looked up at him at that, as confused as Anders had ever seen him.

“I got to take on clients when I wanted and have a lot of fun with it. I had almost saved enough for a ship passage so I wasn’t going to stay there much longer, but it was a special place, the Pearl.” Anders said wistfully then mischievously added, “There was this one time I set up this whole farmer fertility rite orgy scene. Those city folk went crazy for it. They were finding hay all over the place for weeks after. The lay warden was sneezing for weeks, poor woman”. Anders grinned and Fenris rumbled a laugh.

“If you liked it so much why were you trying to get a ship?”, Fenris asked. Anders felt an old sadness creep in at the question but he forced a smile.

“Even then Isabela called me a sap because I was all pining for love while surrounded by all the crazy sex of that brothel. Mind you, I definitely liked all the crazy sex, I just wanted it with a particular person involved.”

Anders sighed and before Fenris could ask about that further continued, “Look, not everyone in that life wants to be but many would curse at you for your pity. It’s a job. People like Jethann take pride in what they do. It’s not just rutting to him, it’s getting into people’s heads. It’s a skill”.  
Fenris snorted.

“Spend a lot of time with him do you?”, Fenris said with an accusatory glare.

“Why, planning on pinning me to a bed again if I say yes? Oh, I’m all a tingle. Maybe Jethann is right and you really are just jealous.” Anders sassed then more seriously said, “There are reasons other than sex to spend time with someone you know, that includes prostitutes. Not that my sex life, or lack there of, is any of your business. Maker, you don’t give Isabela this trouble and she actually hires people”, Anders said.

“I do not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just don’t understand. Brothels in Tevinter are different. They are usually made up of slaves or sometimes Liberati. The conditions are poor. I was just curious”, Fenris replied.

Anders sighed, “Fine, what did you want to know?”

“The bindings, did many request such things?” Fenris asked with an uncertain look.

Anders shrugged. “It was a long time ago and I wasn’t there very long, but people like all sorts of things in bed, being tied up or even spanked was common. There’s nothing wrong with it. Sometimes very strong people just like to let go of all their crushing responsibility in bed.“

“That’s something to think about I suppose,” Fenris said.

“Speaking of bindings, we should start tying me up for your treatment. We can’t have you keeling over on Sundermount. Who else could I get to be a pain in my ass one minute and save it the next?” Anders teased and shrugged off his coat.

Fenris barked a small laugh. “Saving your ass can be quite the job”.

“It is a magnificent ass”, Anders continued with a wink.

“I recall you said you did not wish to play that game today”, Fenris replied with a corner of his mouth still quirked up from the laughter.

“What game?” He was as curious as a cat but the elf looked like a cat about to pounce.

“I believe you called it ‘Spank the naughty Mage’. Fenris said as he leaned over, and offered Anders the bottle. Anders took it. He needed it. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. That was not a response he expected but he would damn well take it. 

“I, ah, haven't played that game in some time. When I did people often wanted me doing the spanking. Large hands”, he replied with a nervous chuckle and holding up a hand as evidence. ‘Andraste’s knicker weasels, is he flirting? I haven’t flirted since Hawke put an end to our back and forth after he took up with Merrill’, Anders thought excitedly. He took a sip of the honey wine. It was as rich as he remembered. The prospect of new memories, good ones to bury the ghosts of the old ones was alluring. As was the elf in front of him.

“My hands may be smaller but I am a trained warrior. I wonder how dark I could make that pale skin of yours? As dark as your check and chest? As dark as you lip?” Fenris asked and put a finger on Anders' bottom lip. Anders instinctually dipped his head forward slightly to take the tip into his mouth. Fenris’s finger was sticky with honey from the fritters. With calloused a fingertip rough on his tongue he had half a second in which he weighed the prospect of backing off, but he was Anders. He was Anders and Justice was having a nap. Anders jumped for things he wanted, and somehow he found he ached for this complicated man who he had been in conflict with for years. He leant further forward to take the entire finger into his mouth, caressing it with his tongue before sucking. 

His eyes were stuck on the warrior’s face. Those green elven eyes were so large, pupils blown into pools of darkness. The blush from before had intensified. His lips parted slightly, a short breaths were audible. All this Anders took in with an eye well versed at reading people. He found the reactions extremely gratifying.

“Mage?”, Fenris started.

“Hmm?”, Anders pulled off but gave one last long lick the entire length of the finger. He curled the tip of his tongue over his upper canine and rested against his upper lip suggestively as he grinned at the flustered elf.

“That feels...you are very skilled with your mouth”, Fenris said, voice husky.

“I could show you more if you like”, Anders said tilting his head.

“You seem to like doing that”, Fenris said distractedly.

“Oh I very much do. I’d say you’d find it rather marvelous as well”, Anders said, smiling and rocking on his heels,”would you like to find out?” Anders wiggled his eyebrows.

The warrior seemed to come out of a daze at that, but was smiling guileless and warm when he replied, “Another time perhaps”. 

“Alright” Anders said, disappointed but still in better spirits. He tugged at a loose lock of hair and asked, “How is your pain?” 

“It is painful halfway down my thighs. It had gotten to my low back before this afternoon in the street”, the elf replied.

“Shall we tie me to the bed then?”Anders said matter of factly. He grabbed his pack containing the new ropes and pranced over to the bed. He sat on the bed and started undoing his boots when he looked up. The elf hadn’t moved. The elf’s face was a study of firelight and shadow, his expression impassive.

“Fenris?” Anders said. “Are you alright?”

The elf walked over to him, he looked gentler in the candlelight and wearing Anders over a large shirt. He didn’t speak, just sat in the chair by the bed and sipped from the bottle of meade. 

Anders swallowed nervously and returned to his task. He felt the elf’s eyes on him. It sent a distracting thrill through him as it had the last time he was here. So much so that he was just about to drop his trousers when he realized something and stopped.

“Oh. Um, I sort of messed my last pair of clean smalls this afternoon.” Anders asked, oddly flustered as he was as an apprentice messing his sheets.

“We’ve seen each other naked many times before”, the warrior said cooly.

“I don’t want to make a mess. Do you have something you don’t mind getting stained?” Anders asked. Fenris set down the bottle and stood up. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. Lyrium lines stood out stark white against the elf’s dark skin. They swirled over his elf lean but still muscular form. Fenris was flawless. It made Anders embarrassed of his own body, the scarred back he kept hidden. He used to be so beautiful.

“This was yours to begin with, will it suffice?” the elf asked.

“Y-Yes. Thank you.” Anders stuttered. He went back to stripping his trousers. His cock had perked a bit in interest so he quickly moved to sit back on the bed, covered his lap as best he could while he prepared the knots in the silk ropes.

“These are different. They are very smooth”, Fenris said as he tightened the restaurants around Anders wrists.

“I wanted to get something more comfortable. I’ll do this as long as you want but I’d rather not get rope burns if I can help it”, Anders replied. “I would like to try something different. Instead of my thigh and shoulder could you touch both thighs?”

“If you wish. Though the angle will be awkward”, Fenris answered, head tilted to the side.

“You could sit on my knees. That would help keep me from kicking the cover loose”, Anders suggested.

Fenris moved with the swift grace of a cat. He perched over Anders wearing only those tight leggings in a low squat, elbows resting on his own knees. It was surreal to have someone this beautiful on top of him after so many years with nothing but his own hand. He wanted to lick over the muscles and lines of lyrium...he wanted so many things. 

“You are sure this will be comfortable for you after earlier?”, Fenris asked while avoiding eye contact.

“I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise”, Anders replied quietly.

“Very well,” Fenris slid down so that now he straddled Anders' legs just below the knees. 

“Is this acceptable? Your knees make for an uncomfortable seat”, the elf asked. His fingers pressed almost painfully into the flesh of Anders' outer thighs without using his lyrium ability. His green eyes met Anders’. There was such intensity and determination in them that Anders felt pinned by those eyes more effectively than the ropes on his wrists. He could feel his cock tenting against the loose cover of the shirt, clearly visible once again.

Anders let out a breath slowly. “It’s fine. You can go ahead. One hand then the other. Try not to wiggle your fingers”, Anders said, trying to keep his voice even and calm.

Without preamble Fenris sunk his fingers into one thigh. That otherworldly song filled him and the part of him that was Spirit was enraptured once again. The accompanying physical sensation pulsated through Anders’ body from the points of ethereal contact but as soon as the fingers of Fenris’s other hand sank in, the pleasure increased. It ran from one thigh to the other arching through his lower abdomen below his navel. He was instantly fully hard, straining painfully against the worn material of the shirt held tight against him by Fenris’s legs.

“Ah! Fenris!” Anders shouted and thrashed. The ropes and muscled bracing of the warriors thigh held him in place.

“Do you want me to stop?” Fenris asked without moving a muscle.

“I’m going to…”Anders gasped as the pleasure pulsed again. It was hard to think. It was more than a mortal man was meant to experience. “I’m going to release”, he moaned.

“So soon? No matter. Go ahead Mage, I have you”, Fenris replied. His fingers sunk deeper, touch on bone and nerve which sent a white hot spike of pleasure directly up Anders spine and he climaxed with a blinding ferocity, otherworldly song reaching a crescendo. 

When he came back to himself it was to the taste of honey and blood. The next thing he noticed was the sensation of Fenris running his fingers along his exposed stomach with one hand. The warrior had slid up to rest himself atop Anders' thighs. Anders’ tunic had ridden up. It seemed his cock had refused to remain contained by a threadbare shirt, peaking out just enough to splash his stomach. The elf’s face was flush and he was breathing heavily through his nose. 

“You bit through your lip again”, the elf said in a gravelly voice. His one hand was bunched in Anders' shirt. There was blood. 

‘Well that explains the honey taste’, Anders thought.

The elf’s other hand was using Ander’s fresh release to trace patterns of his own making over Anders’ belly with a dreamy concentration. The elf’s whole demeanor made Anders’ spent cock twitch in interest despite having just blacked out from climax. ‘This kind of Warden stamina might just be worth the nightmares’, Anders thought.

“It’s fine, I can heal it,” said Anders, “How’s the pain?”

“Only my feet trouble me now”, the warrior replied, eyes following the path of his fingers.

“Keep going then”, Anders shuttered out.

Fenris started to ask, “Where do you want me to-”

Anywhere you like”, Anders interrupted, closing his eyes.

“Anywhere I like”, Fenris echoed distantly. His fingers withdrew from Anders’ belly. Anders heard himself whine until he was startled by Fenris leaning forward to cup Anders face. The elf’s finger scratched against the grain of his stubble and his thumb rested on Anders bottom lip. The position had Fenris slid up to rest of Anders' hips because of their height difference. Anders felt an unmistakable hardness press against him.

“Open”, the elf instructed in a voice that made Anders’ cock go from twitching to half hard despite having just spent. He complied and the warriors calloused thumb stroked over his tongue as it sat relaxed in his mouth. Still sweet and salty. It was oddly soothing, being pet there.

He felt Fenris’s other hand push up the shirt Anders was wearing. Anders shifted to assist until it was bunched under his chin and armpits. The hand then came to rest over Anders’ heart.

“Here”, Fenris said while rubbing back and forth with his thumb. It tickled through Anders’ sparse chest hair and he felt only like a soft pressure where it crossed the scar.

After a pause to presumably wait for an objection, Fenris sank his thumb into Anders' heart. 

The part of him that was Justice seemed far away but he could still sense his ecstasy. The song had no build up this time. Anders crashed into it and he was overrun by the song without mortal words. He was distantly aware of the more familiar corporeal ecstasy his body was feeling, but it could not compare to getting swept away by the song.

As quickly as it started he fell out of the song. Justice pulled away towards it like heliotrope following the sun. Anders the man was left adrift in the stillness for a time as the song faded. He woke with a familiar ache in his injured lip as he worked over the thumb in his mouth and a hand carding gently through his hair. It felt wonderful. It felt safe.

When he opened his eyes Fenris was hovering over him so close he could make out the different shades of green in his eyes as they caught in the candlelight. He was leaning on the elbow of the arm which was playing with Anders’ hair. The elf was breathing heavy through his nose. The forceful exhale tickled Anders’ cheek and neck on one side. Anders gave a final suck at the thumb as it was pulled from his mouth so that it made a soft ‘pop’ as it passed his lips.

“You taste like honey and blood”, Anders murmured. Fenris responded with a rumbling sound.

Fenris withdrew both hands and leant back so that he was raised up on his knees, holding himself above Anders’ hips but not touching. He had a look of barely restrained wildness to him.

Anders’ eyes continued down. 

“Oh”, said Anders. 

The covering Anders’ had been using for modesty had fallen to the side leaving Anders naked save for the tunic which was still hiked up to his chin. His flaccid cock was still leaking against his belly but most of the spent on his pale body had cooled and started to dry already. Above him the elegant swirls of lyrium over the warrior’s taut, muscular torso were interrupted by haphazard stripes of white. The liquid reflected gold in the candlelight and dripped trails down towards the elf’s black leggings. Black legging that did little to hide Fenris’s aroused state. 

Seeing Fenris painted with spent and aroused to such a state made something warm swell within Anders and his apparently insatiable libido took note.

“Fenris?”, Anders said,”Can I help you with that? You can really see what I can do with my mouth if you like,” Anders looked pointedly at the warrior’s obvious erection. A drop of Anders’ own spent landed on the over sensitive head of his cock and he sucked in a breath.   
  
The sharp sound seemed to break whatever mental fog the warrior was in and leapt off the bed.

“I can’t. I don’t know how to do any of this. I am sorry. I should not have done that”, the elf said quickly. He was moving nervously, craning his neck back and forth, clenching and unclenching his hands, and unable to stand still.

“Fenris, Fenris look at me”, Anders said. The elf stopped and did so with his head bowed slightly and posture so tense he looked ready for battle. “I don’t know why you are upset, but could you untie me and you can tell me what’s wrong?”. 

“Yes. Yes of course”, the elf answered and when to undo the bindings at Anders' wrists. Anders sat up and wiped at his belly with the spare shirt then tossed it to Fenris who did the same.

“Fenris. Sit down. “ Anders said and was amazed that the elf actually did what he said. Something was clearly very wrong. In his gentlest voice that he used on the very injured and scared he asked, “Why did you get so upset just now?”

Fenris looked like he could not find the words.

“Did it-bring up bad memories”, Anders asked carefully. 

“Yes,”Fenris said.

Anders sighed and said, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You said no before I shouldn't have pushed. Just ignore my mouth when I'm out of it”.

“It’s not that. It did bring up memories but I also didn’t know what to do. Not as a free man,” Fenris answered.

“You mean... you’ve never?”, Anders asked.

“No, I...no”, Fenris replied, “I’ve only been made to feel arousal and release at another’s whim through magic. Since I have been on the run I have not had the time or inclination to try with anyone. There was no one to trust anyway and there was always the pain.”  
  
“Oh. Oh! With the pain gone... that is if you find someone you like and trust. I mean it’s your body, you only get the one. You should enjoy it, figure out all the things you like. If you want to. Or not if you don’t. It’s yours. Your body I mean. Sex can be quite spectacular though so I would recommend it. Shit” Anders scratched at the stubble on his face anxiously as he rambled. He felt almost dizzy and his face was burning.

“Mage”, Fenris said with a hint of exasperation.

Anders looked over and the elf looked amused. “Yes?”, Anders asked. Maker take me now!' Anders thought.

“I don't trust you with everything, but I trust you with this, whatever this is”, Fenris said.

“Well that’s something anyway. I trust you with this too. I even like you. Although you do drive me crazy half the time”, Anders answered.

“Only half? You’ve finally beat me at something Mage, you're almost always maddening to me in one way or another. To bad for you we do no make wagers on our sanity like wicked grace”, Fenris returned.

“Ha! I'm sure Isabela and Varric have at some point”, Anders exclaimed, happy to see the elf was no longer distressed. “Well, I’d like to take advantage of the bath if that’s alright. We could really both use one at this point. Maker I made a mess.” he gestured at himself, though his tunic now gave him some modesty.

“You may use the bath first. I’m going to finish the honey wine”, Fenris answered. 

Anders made his way on shaky legs down the stairs and to the bathroom, leaving the elf alone with his thoughts for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The interruption with my computer messed with my writing because I tend to write bits and them connect them. I'm afraid this felt a little all over the place but Anders is emotionally all over the place so...thoughts?  
> Thank you for reading my lovelies.


	17. A Cunning Little Application of Ice Glyphs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anders and Fenris reach some conclusions alone, they have a bath, and Anders has a plan or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you are enjoying this so far ^__^ This was supposed to be a short little thing and it has become the longest story I've ever written! 
> 
> I'll be making up my own magic rules here so I hope you like them!

Chapter 17: Reflections and A Cunning Application of Ice Glyphs  


The bathing chamber was grand if a bit damaged. However Dwarven craftsmanship was resilient. The stonework was geometric and functional. Anders cast a fire spell to light the sconces and a gathering of thick candles which rested on the corner of the bath. The room was actually fairly tidy compared to the rest of the building. Stone did not decay after all. There had once been a mirrored dressing table but the glass had been broken. Thankfully the remnants had been disposed of but there was a sliver of silvery glass in the corner remaining. He smiled at his hazy reflection. His eyes really did look amazing with the kohl, golden and as wild as he felt right now. His lip snung from the stretch of the smile though. It was a mess so he sent a wave of creation magic to it to seal the wound. The dried blood remained of course, garnet flecks in his red gold stubble.

He pulled the tunic over his head and walked over to the bath.

The water from the pump was icy despite the summer’s heat. They were dwarven afterall and the water flowed from deep within the stones of Kirkwall. Anders filled the tub. He did not study force magic deeply but he had learned enough to keep the pump running by itself while he rinsed out the tunic and laid it out to dry on the dressing table. While the tub filled he sat down on the stone bench built like a step on the outside of the tub to rinse and soap himself before his bath.

It had been such a long day. With Justice distant it was hard to keep his thoughts and feelings from flying away from him. Being alone always put Anders on edge.

The old anxieties made themselves known of course, fed by those bastard Templars in the Rose. Being alone in a room of stone reminded him distressingly of the Kinloch hold dungeon but there was at least light here. He created a half dozen wisps which added to the light and Anders’ calm. Always there was the fear of being dragged back to the Circle by Templars. He found himself going back to old habits without the grounding influence of Justin. He found himself repeating “I’m free. They will not find me here” as he scrubbed his torso with the olive oil soap he had found beside the bench. He left the water to rinse cold and it seemed to take some of the worry away with the suds down the drain. 

Yet, even after soothing that old fear a new one presented itself: Fenris.

He went to work on his hair, still mulling over the warrior, the gloomy Mage hating asshole who gently played with Anders’ hair and tucked him into bed. His cranky Hero of the afternoon to whom he had revealed way too much this evening. 

That was it right there. It wasn’t all Anders' secrets by a long shot but they were delicate ones. It made him feel more naked than he had felt trussed up on the elf’s bed. Except the elf had shared of himself as well, obviously painful things. It was a bitter sort of intimacy. Anders found he wanted an intimacy of a sweeter nature.

It wasn’t because Fenris was good looking. Oh he was. Objectively Fenris was always gorgeous, but so many physically attractive people ended up being cruel or just assholes. Anders was quite familiar with that thank you Kinlock hold. He had slept with pretty people who hated him , it was not appealing anymore. Nor was a casual dalliance. 

Until recently Anders had put the warrior squarely in the ‘just another asshole’ box, making his physical charms all but moot. Now though, now Anders saw a bit of Fenris the elf kept hidden behind biting words and violence. He was funny and, bizarrely, he sometimes had an innocence about him Anders would not expect from someone he had personally seen cleave and gut more enemies than he could remember. Coupled with watching the elf bash a couple of Templar’s unconscious? Anders found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss the stubborn elf until he forgot what magic was. 

It was a dangerous thought for both of them really. Yes, it could only lead to ruin. Possibly a missing heart. Anders resolved himself to back off, for both their sakes. Besides, the elf clearly needed to sort some things out for himself before he seriously took up with anyone let alone a possessed apostate.

Anders sighed to himself, “Why can I never go for someone uncomplicated for once in my Maker forsaken life?” 

He turned his thoughts to more practical, immediate concerns, how to adjust Fenris to his painlessness. That the elf felt off balance in battle to the point of excessive injury was troubling. If Fenris did not return from this trip to Sundermount...no. Anders would not allow that to happen. 

He poured a pitcher of cold water through his hair. His mind busied itself with working over the complicated healing and magical problem while he proceeded with the mundane tasks of cleaning himself. It was a very effective distraction from his anxiety. So distracting in fact that as he was stepping into the steaming waters of the bath he did not hear the creek of the old iron door hinges. 

***

Fenris had spent the afternoon after the escape from the Rose with thoughts oscillating but centered on the Mage. First in his thoughts was the out of control reaction the Mage had after being attacked. It had been very different from when the Spirit overtook the Mage in battle before and the Mage himself had been terrified. He had to begrudgingly admit, at least to himself, that after speaking with ‘Justice’ he hesitated to call whatever possessed the Mage a demon. He still had a looming sense of dread.

The second concern that had plagued Fenris’s thoughts was his tumultuous feelings for the Mage. The Mage was an admirable Healer and had a genuinely kind heart. Fenris had felt safe under his care and that was no small thing for the paranoid elf. 

After his response to the Mage’s advances in the Hightown alcove he could no longer deny his physical attraction, but the Mage had not been himself. The same applied to the blond’s inviting requests in Ander the previous night. However tonight Anders had clearly propositioned him before the influence of this strange reaction they shared. Fenris had been tempted.

Now, with the Mage away in the bathing chamber, Fenris paced. The honey wine left a sweet taste on his tongue and a warmth in his limbs but it did little to quell the elf’s agitation. 

“Fastas Vass”, Fenris cursed the empty room. This would be so much easier if Anders were not harboring some kind of otherworldly being. Desiring a mage Fenris could probably come to term with, eventually.

The scent of human spent was heavy around him despite his attempts to wipe it off his person. During his time with the Fog Warriors he had come to realize that what had been between him and Danarius was a twisted thing like everything else he had experienced in the Imperium. Since then just catching a whiff of human male spent elicited disgust. Yet when mingled with the other scents of the Mage it awakened a hunger in Fenris. 

When he had been atop the Mage it had been intensified. Fenris had buried his face in the crook of the human’s neck inhaling the Mage’s scent ravenously, just a hair's breadth from tasting his throat. The sudden wet lines of heat stripping Fenris’s stomach should have galled him but it only made his own hard length ache. Fenris was propelled by the sounds the Mage made around the fingers in his mouth, the sensuous feel of that mouth. Humans were so _hot_. The writhing body beneath him heated like stones baking in the sun. 

When the Mage had finally spoken Fenris had wanted what he offered. The image of it was tantalizing, but the Mage had looked flushed and dazed. It would have been wrong to take advantage and realizing he had been tempted to do so was like being dosed in ice water.

Even now he wanted to both run from the Mage and go find him in the bath chamber and...

What exactly he desired continued to elude to him. It was like standing in a hallway of doors and not knowing which one to choose. Except the hallway was on fire and he knew all the doors could have deadly traps in place. It was maddening. 

What Fenris hated most was not feeling in control of himself, as if he were some feral beast.

He began to focus on his breath. Not changing it, just the resting feel of it as he continued to walk around the room. It was something he did to compose himself for as long as he had memory. He would push this down as he pushed everything down. 

When he felt he had gained control of himself he allowed himself to consider the object of his frustrations. The abomination who wore himself out healing the poor. The annoying, sharp-tongued fool he had fought with for years agreeing to help rid Fenris of this accursed pain without hesitation. The blond was wrong so often about so many things but Fenris was learning he had been wronged greatly and still somehow tried to be kind.

There was an indomitable sweetness to the man unders all his dangers and Fenris was drawn to him for more than just sex. He had felt lust before but this was more complicated. He paused in relentless stride and touched his hand to his cheek, the one on which the Mage’s chapped lips had pressed briefly as they had sat on the kitchen floor earlier. Fenris supposed it was his first kiss in a way, at least the first one as a free man. The thought was oddly calming.

He did want the Mage. What he intended to do about it, he was unsure. 

For now he could clean himself properly. The Mage obviously did not have a problem with nudity, even if he did hang on the periphery when they bathed with their comrades outside the city. He pulled out a spare set of leggings and a tunic from a storage chest and then turned to where the Mage had disrobed. He retrieved the Mage’s clothing as well.

Fresh vestments in hand he made for the bathing chambers. 

Outside the bath Fenris paused in front of the heavy oak door. His markings were tingling. The mage must be casting inside. No matter. Fenris started to open the door. The hinges groaned mournfully but he stopped with the door open partially.

Golden candlelight and the cool blue light of dancing wisps illuminated the form of the Mage. His gleamed with water, droplets sparkled like gems as he moved from the rinsing area into the bath. He appeared lost in thought and unaware that he was no longer alone. Fenris regarded the beauty of the tall human until his eyes adjusted to the strange light and he registered the knotted scars crossing his back. They were mostly pale with age but a vibrant burse of rosy color between his shoulder blades stood out. Fenris recognized it’s twin. He had teased through it earlier this evening to touch the Mage’s heart. 

“How are you alive?”, Fenris said.

The Mage startled, slipping on the step to get into the bath and falling in. He hit the edge with his ribs with a sickening crack. Fenris winced, dropped the clothing and ran over to jump into the bath by his side.

“FUCK!”, the Mage shouted out then his magic lit in his hands blue. It washed over Fenris’s markings pleasantly.

“Mage”, Fenris said as he waited beside the injured human, feeling useless and frustrated again.

“Andraste's charred cotton socks Fenris! Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?” Anders scolded.

“Are you healed?”, Fenris asked, head dropping down.

The Mage let out a heavy sigh, the fire ebbing out of his expression, and sunk into the water to his chin. “Yes. It’s a good thing I’m a damn fine healer, that broke two ribs.”

“I didn't mean to startle you,” Fenris said.

“What are you doing here?”, the blond said, swirling a finger in the water's surface. 

“I wanted to bathe as well but I will go if you prefer. I brought your clothing”, Fenris said and stood to leave.

“Wait”, the Mage’s hand shot out and touched Fenris’s knee, “It’s fine. Just go clean off and jump back in.”

Fenris regarded the Mage, but all he could decipher from his face was fatigue. Fenris nodded and the Mage’s hand slipped back into the water.

Fenris stripped and started rinsing. The hot water was a pleasant change. As Fenris was lathering the soap on his body the Mage spoke to him,”What was it you said, before I fell over?”

“How are you alive?”Fenris answered without looking over, feeling embarrassed.

“In general? I’m charming and if that doesn’t work I think on my feet”, Anders replied. Fenris could hear him kicking in the water. Fenris was quiet a moment, the sound on the rippling water loud.

“I saw the scars. I was surprised. You don’t have to tell me about them if you don’t wish to”, Fenris said somberly.

“Ah. Those. I suppose with what we are doing you’d see them sooner or later. I got the whip after each escape starting with the 3rd”, Anders sighed. “When they caught me after my 6th escape Ser Rylock had me ‘whipped properly’ once we were out of Denerim, ” Anders said with an exaggerated stern feminene voice. “With the Magebane I couldn’t heal and a runaway mage wasn’t worth a healing potion so they got infected. If we had taken any more time to get back to the Tower it would have spread to the blood. Now _that_ would have been bad. Wynne was furious.”

“I know what a whipping looks like, Mage. I did wonder at why a healer would have scars like that but I meant the one at your heart with its match on your back. That’s a killing blow, an impossible scar.” Fenris answered. He looked over to the Mage but could only see the back of his head were it rested on the side of the tub. 

“I told you already. They ambushed us and tried to kill us for existing. Justice saved me”, Anders said with a voice that sounded carefully disinterested. He inhaled audibly before dunking himself into the water and out of sight. That was...Fenris had never heard of such a thing. Magisters would clamour for such power.

He sat contemplating it until the Mage resurfaced. The Mage’s hair was out of the tie and dripping. The water had darked the gold and tamed it’s normal chaos. It made his features appear sharper, his face and nose long. The Mage had turned around to face Fenris, resting his chin on his folded forearms crossed over the side of the stone wall of the bath. He looked weary.

“I have an idea that might help you adjust to both your physical sensations and magic sensing changes so you don’t get sliced up on Sundermount. It does involve a bit of magic though. Would you be willing to try it?” the Mage asked.

“What _exactly_ are you thinking”, Fenris asked warily.

“I was thinking I’d make you something which would expose you to a low level of magic. That way you would have feedback from your markings like you are used to just without pain.”

“An enchantment? Something of Sandal’s design? Those do not feel the same as spellwork” Fenris said.

“No. I was thinking about a glyph. A small one on something you could carry easily. Considering how blistering it is this time of year perhaps an ice glyph? It’s actually similar to the battle form I’ve seen used as a mine. They are both the same basic principle but the battle types save all the cold energy for a sudden blast when triggered. This one slowly releases a small amount over time. We would use them for larder storage in the Circle. Those ones were larger and lasted a few days before needing a recast. The trick I’m going to use is the basic principle of glyphs which states that the less area of effect, basically the size of the glyph, the longer the duration. The size I am thinking should hold weeks. It’s a cunning little application of ice glyphs. Old Enchanter Sweeny and his Freezy chair would be proud ”, Anders said, laughing to himself a bit, then asked,”so what do you say?”

“I would be willing to try it”, Fenris said.

“Great”, Anders grinned up at him. “So are you going to get in the bath or are you just enjoying the view”. The Mage fluttered his eyes. That got a small laugh from Fenris and he moved to join the Mage. 

He settled in across from the human on the submerged stone ledge. The now ever present tickling from his hair had stopped as the locks were weighed down with water. Fenris could feel the weight of them and the pressure of the water. The heat of the water eased the tension in his muscles and he leant back against the edge and watched the Mage.

“What is it you would give me to carry this glyph?” Fenris asked.

“Just a small charm, something you could wear about your neck”, Anders answered and removed the earring from his ear. “Gold transfers heat better than anything else I can think of.” He played with the gleaming bit of jewelry a moment before cupping it between both hands.

“I want to use a bit of fire and force magic to reshape it, will it bother you here and now?” the Mage asked.

“Do it,” he answered. Fenris shook his head and steeled himself for whatever new sensations arose. White hot light shone from between the Mage’s fingers and his hand glowed red. Fenris could see the dark shadows of bones within them. The magic felt like a deep pressure of heat, like lines of heated stones pushed in on Fenris along the markings. It forced the last bit of tension from his muscles and he let out a groan. 

“Fenris? Did that hurt or was it, um, like the other time?” Anders said, looking over with concern.

Fenris looked into the water in embarrassment. “It was heat and pressure. It was relaxing I suppose. Even with the pain of my markings gone I find I am bothered by aches in my neck and back. This effect seems to soothe those aches. It is of no concern.”

“Ha, I was going to say, I thought I was the Warden here,” Anders joked. Fenris was confused and it must have shown because Anders added, “ you know the ‘stamina’. Getting worked up after you just…”. Anders finished with a lewd gesture.

“I did not.” Fenris said in irritation.

“Oh. Um, sorry I just assumed”, Anders sounded taken aback.

“You were incorrect”, Fenris said shortly.

“Hey, it’s not my business. I get it. It’s a natural thing to do you know, but none of my business. Anyway, It’s your posture. Even when you’re not carried that monstrosity of a sword around you’re always hunching over.” Anders said

“It’s a habit”, Fenris said curtly, and remembered the torment a thoughtless glance at Hadriana’s face had earned him. 

“Any habit can be broken with practice”, Anders said encouragingly. Fenris knew it was meant to be kind but it grated. “You might be able to talk me into one of my famous massages. Ask Isabela, I think I put her to sleep in the middle of a brothel party once.” 

“Let us not speak of this right now. Were you successful?” Fenris said quickly and forced himself to look the Mage in the eye to spite his past.

“Of course I was successful”, the Mage grinned with self assurance. He held a gold disk between his finger and thumb. The was a small hole at the edge of one side. The candle light flashed on its surface. “I’m going to work the ice glyph now if that works for you?”

Fenris nodded. Cold raced along his marking, giving him gooseflesh despite the heat of the pool of water he was sitting in. Blue light worked itself into a script on the disk. Fenris could not even discern a letter from it. Perhaps it was not Common script. 

“There,” the Mage said with a note of finality. He placed the gold charm on the edge of the tub and all but collapsed, “I’m drained now. Damn it, I forgot to chill and heal my feet earlier. I was running all over Kirkwall today, so many stairs. Why are there no lifts except to the Undercity? It’s rather ridiculous in a city laid out like this.” the Mage complained and stretched his long legs out on the ledge which circled the pool of water. Fenris could see the pale human feet close to his side, distorted by the rippling water. Anders’ were very large even for a human.

Before the other night Fenris had only touched human feet to injure or torture. He did not count the sharp kicks of Handriana’s pointed shoes.

He found human feet a curiosity. They were larger than elven feet and distinctive in shape; without the thick, leathery soles which elfs naturally developed they were soft and so much more sensitive. Fenris knew he was far from the only elf to find them... interesting. Isabela and the Witch had made a few rounds of Wicked Grace particularly uncomfortable discussing how it was similar to the common human fascination with the heightened sensitivity of elven ears. The pirate was quite descriptive with her examples and most of the table was blushing, irritated or both.

“Would you like to try it?” Anders asked.

Fenris had to recenter his thoughts before he answered. The glyph.

“I would rather wait until after the bath. I can practice with my sword”, Fenris said.

Before he could talk himself out of it his hand slid over to snatch up one of the Mage’s large feet. The resulting yelp from the Mage was delightful.

“Fenris what are you doing?” the Mage asked, his eyes wide.

“Tending to your delicate Mage feet”, Fenris answered, grinning at the Mage’s reaction as he wrapped both hands around the foot. Without further warning he applied pressure to the knot of tissue just above the heel. The Mage’s head lulled back against the edge of the tub with a moan.

“I, oh, that feels good”, the Mage sighed, loose limbed and relaxed. 

Fenris knew this was a duty of some Tevinter slaves but it had never been his duty. Perhaps that was why he found it was gratifying that he could take knowledge meant to harm and use it to take pain away. 

“You have done much to allow me to gain comfort I never thought possible. I can ease this pain for you,” Fenris said.

“It’s not, mmmm, there’s no payment required Fenris, you don’t owe me anything,” the Mage responded in distraction. 

Fenris was reminded of the words of the ‘Spirit’: ‘ _Perhaps. Anders is not one to collect on any such debt if one exists_.’

“Don’t I?” Fenris asked. “Perhaps then I would simply like to see you without pain as well”.

He moved to the other foot. The little sounds the Mage made were pleasing as well. Perhaps a little too pleasing as Fenris was surprised to find his arousal attempting to return. With that realization he released the Mage’s foot and drew up his own legs to hide his state. The Mage almost looked asleep as he lay back with eyes closed. His chest rising and falling slightly with his breath caused the impossible scar to disappear and reappear.

“Are your feet still troubling you Mage? Are you _awake_?”, Fenris asked, resting his forearms over his knees.

“Feeling good now!” Anders answered then yawned, “just tired. I better head start back for the Clinic before I get too tired to manage the stairs".

“You will stay here tonight”, Fenris stated firmly, “it is not safe for you to walk the city streets alone”.

The Mage’s face was already flushed with the heat of the bath but Fenris knew he would be so flushed anyway as he sputtered, “no,no. I’m a big bad apostate. I’ll be fine.” 

“Mage, you are worn out and mana drained. Be sensible for once or do I need to tie you to the bed again to keep you safe tonight?”, Fenris asked with a raised eyebrow. Ah. The Mage could blush darker. 

“You could not tie me up if I didn’t allow it”, the Mage replied with an edge to his tone. 

Fenris was uncertain if the Mage was embarrassed or concerned so he replied,“I most assuredly _could_ , especially with you in such a state. I would pin you before you even realized what had happened but I would never do so against your will”.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try when I don’t have to worry about onlookers”, the Mage gave a cocky grin.

“Perhaps I will give you a demonstration some other time when you don’t look ready to pass out and drown yourself in my bathing chamber,” Fenris said wryly and added more seriously, “Will you stay the night?”

“I suppose it is getting terribly late and I _could_ reinforce the glyph for you in the morning if you like it”, Anders said with another yawn.

“Very good. I am going to run through some drills with your glyph now”, Fenris said standing up and climbing out of the bath. He heard the Mage follow suit.

“I’ll just dress for sleep”, Anders said, and ambled over to where the two tunics from earlier were laid out. Fenris slipped his own leggings on and watched as the Mage removed the lacing from one of his wet tunics. The Mage threaded through the hold on the golden disk and walked over to Fenris, “Here, you can wear it like a necklace. Turn around and I’ll tie it for you.” Anders said. 

Fenris had seen the human naked many times even before this strange arrangement. However now they stood close. Even though the Mage was slime for his build, in being asked to turn his back to him Fenris was made keenly aware of how just how tall and broad the human's frame. He felt small. That didn’t actually happen often despite being an elf. Fenris knew that despite his stature he was most likely physically stronger and more martially skilled than most people he would come across, his body honed from hours of daily training. 

Still, his breath caught in his throat for an instant at the casual request. However, he steeled himself quickly. He nodded and quickly turned around.

The Mage’s encircled him with his arms just long enough to position the necklace. The charm fell to rest just over Fenris’s heart. A coolness like the first crisp breeze of autumn rippled through his markings and he shivered after just being in the heated bath. The cord rested loose and slid as the Mage adjusted it. Fenris could feel the heat from the Mage’s hands before they touched him. When they did it was gentle brushes along the nap of his neck. His skin broke into gooseflesh. 

“Is it too cold?” Anders asked. The warm puff of breath tickled his ear and he had to bite his lip as warmth pooled low in his belly and his leggings felt tighter. 

“It is fine. Just a change from the hot bath. I will go test it with my practice forms. Thank you”, Fenris said with tight control and strode stiffly out of the bathing chamber without looking back lest the Mage catch sight of his inappropriate state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to jump to the trip to Sundermount next, which will be multiple POVs and deal with Hawke/Merrill. Now I'm wondering if I might do an Anders/Fenris wake up short chapter first...


	18. Show Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wake up in bed together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was not planning on writing anything smutty here. It was just going to be a funny little scene and yet...I think this is my most explicit chapter yet.  
> So I've had mild anatomical and physiological differences between humans and elves. I take it a little further here.

**Chapter 18: Show Me**

Fenris was feeling cautiously optimistic.

The ice glyph had given him just enough feedback on his body to keep him on balance. He practiced some of his most challenging forms without a flaw. He would still need to test the Mage’s theory about the glyph helping with his markings sensitivity to spellwork but that could wait until morning. 

When he returned to his quarters the Mage had fallen asleep at the desk near the door. He wore loose brown trousers and a faded green tunic which had been mended in several places with darker green patches and white thread in a manner Fenris had not seen before. Whoever had mended it had taken care to embellish, the stitching over the patches formed running patterns over and around the joined fabrics. The effect made the old tunic more pleasing to the eye than it probably had when it was new.

The human’s hair had partially dried and made a wild golden frame around the long face. Fenris smoothed back errant strains from the man’s face. The Red-gold stubble harsh against his fingers. The mage seemed to like it when Fenris played with his hair so he let his fingers sink into the still damp locks. The man’s eyes fluttered.

“Do you always fall asleep at desks Mage? I’m no healer but that does not seem comfortable. Come to bed”, Fenris chided and withdrew his hand from the mess of blond hair.

The Mage covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned.

“I didn’t want to put you out”, the blond said.

“Don't be ridiculous. You are a tall human but this bed is bigger than yours. It could probably fit four people. The two of us will fit with room to spare”, Fenris started. 

The Mage looked too tired to protest further. He plodded along as Fenris ushered him to the bed and simply curled up facing the wall. Fenris placed the charm on the chair by the bed and lay on his back. The charm had left him cold and he covered himself in the blanket. The smells of the bed were distracting but the chill and fatigue prevented any further embarrassments. After a few minutes of laying tense he was taken by surprise when the Mage turned over and wrapped an arm around him. The human’s body heat seeped into him and as the human snuggled up to rest his head on Fenris’s chest as he had in the clinic Fenris felt the tension melt away. He relaxed into the warm. The smell of the Mage’s hair, incense and elfroot, had become comforting to Fenris and he was lulled to sleep.

***

Fenris slept deeply for once. 

So it was extremely jarring to be pulled into consciousness by being slammed down forcefully into his own bed and pinned by large, strong hands at the shoulders. His eyes flew open. The Mage’s face loomed over him. He was expressionless, his eyes burned cold blue. The voice that came out of his mouth was not his.

“Do not take what is not offered elf”, the demon’s booming voice reverberated through Fenris.

Fenris reacted by reaching up to sink his fingertips into the back of a forearm holding him. When the demon howled Fenris pulled his hands clean of the Mage’s body and flipped their positions, keeping hold of the human’s wrists.

The Mage’s eyes were closed and he was breathing heavy. When his eyes opened he looked disoriented. His eyes were as wide as tea saucers when they finally focused on Fenris.

The alarmed human asked, “What happened?” before his gaze drifted to the side with a knitted brow. “Oh! Andraste’s knicker weasels! Ask me first next time, you confounded Spirit”, the Mage spoke to himself in exasperation before returning to look up at Fenris sheepish in the early morning light.

“Oh Maker, I’m sorry Fenris. Justice didn’t understand and was trying to protect me. He’s sorry too”, Anders said quickly. 

“Trying to protect you from what? We were sleeping Mage”, Fenris said unhappy at the rude awakening and being awake in general. At least the demon, spirit, whatever it was was gone. 

“Yes. Yes we were. Justice doesn’t sleep though. He doesn’t always remember things about having bodies because, well, because he’s a Spirit. He really just misunderstood”, the Mage said with a beseeching look. His face was starting to flush all down along his throat.

“What are you babbling about Mage?”, Fenris asked in exasperation.

“You were apparently trying to  _ relieve some tension _ against my ass while you were sleeping. He knew I was asleep and so had not approved but he didn’t understand you weren’t aware of what you were doing”. Anders finally answered.

It was at that instant that Fenris realized he was still half hard and pressed against the Mage. He released the Mage’s hands and leaned back. That was a mistake. He could now see the human’s arousal tenting his trousers. The smell of the Mage’s musk flooded the air with the movement. Fenris inhaled the mixed aromas of the Mage and his own arousal rushed back upon him. ‘ _ Do not take what is not offered elf _ ’ echoed in his head and he felt shameful. He bowed his head and suppressed a whimper while attempting to remove himself from the Mage. Large hands landed on his hips, holding him where he was. 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s perfectly natural Fenris”, the Mage was using that calming tone he had when healing. Fenris remained raised on his knees over the Mage.

“I’m not embarrassed”, Fenris bit out the lie.

“Hmm,” the Mage responded in obvious disbelief. “Relax Fenris. You aren’t going to hurt me and I’m not going to hurt you. It’s just your body. Here, give me your hands”.

Fenris felt the hands on his hips flip to rest palm up above his knees. He opened his eyes to look at the Mage. The human was scruffy with stubble and bed-rumbled hair. His small, reassuring smile lifted the corners of his warm eyes and created small wrinkles. Something relaxed inside of Fenris’s chest. He tentatively placed his hands in the human’s large, warm ones. The Mage rolled his thumbs over the center of them and into the meat at the base of Fenris’s thumbs.

“Please tell me why didn’t you take care of yourself last night,” the Mage said softly. Fenris felt the urge to yell at that but the gentle look the Mage was giving him quashed it. He exhaled.

“I do not do that”, Fenris answered looking down at their joined hands.

“Is it painful? Perhaps from the markings or… memories”, Anders asked.

“I only have tainted memories Mage”, Fenris answered. 

He felt the Mage squeeze his hands and in a lighter tone said, ”You could try making new ones. You are very handsome, witty and brave. You’d have half of Kirkwall falling over each other.” After a breath he added, “You deserve to be happy Fenris”. 

“Do I Mage? It’s not that easy. These hands have done terrible things,” Fenris replied.

“The control was taken from you then. Since you have been free what terrible things have you done?” Anders asked.

Fenris sat in silence.

“None”, Anders answered for him. “You may have horrible views about Southern Mages, but you haven't done anything bad to anyone who didn’t deserve it ten times over because you are not a bad person and these are your hands now, completely yours to do with as you will”. Anders squeezed his hands again. Fenris wasn’t sure if he believed the Mage but he felt an inkling of hope at his words. 

Then the Mage took a slight commanding tone which sent a thrill up Fenris’s spine, “Say it. Tell me they’re yours”. 

“Mine”, Fenris said quickly. He felt the tips of his ear burning and his arousal ached.

The human flipped his hands overs so that Fenris’s palms were flush with the top of his thigh.

“These are your legs Fenris. They are strong from the work  _ you _ choose to put into them and they take  _ you _ where you want to go”, Anders stated. “Who do they belong to?”, he asked softly.

“They are mine,” Fenris whispered. He felt pulled along by the Mage’s words and light as if he would float away without the Mage’s hands grounding him.

“Fenris, do you want to learn to please yourself?”, Anders asked calmly, his thumbs rubbing over the backs of Fenris’s hands. He was as matter of fact about it as if he were offering to show Fenris cooking techniques. 

“Yes”, Fenris answered, feeling breathless.

Anders took Fenris’s sword hand in both of his large human ones and placed it over the arousal straining against his leggings.

“This is  _ your _ cock Fenris. It exists for  _ your  _ pleasure,” Anders stated. Cock. Anders called it a cock. It had always seemed ludicrous to hear Southerners call it that but the way Anders said it was provocative. 

“Tell me whose cock this is Fenris”, Anders instructed, calm and steady. 

“It is  _ my _ cock”, Fenris answered and moaned.

“Do you want  _ your  _ pleasure Fenris?” Anders answered in that voice that was undoing Fenris.

“Yes, Vehendis. Yes”, Fenris moaned louder and slid his cock against their hands.

“Then take what is yours Fenris, what you want”. Anders said firmly and moved Fenris’s hands to the ties of his leggings and returned his grounding grip to Fenris’s hips. Fenris’s nimble fingers made short work of the lacing and his cock sprung out, bobbing a little. Fenris’s hand froze. It was overwhelming to be exposed like this in front of another person again. His hands dropped and he looked away.

“Fenris?” Anders asked but Fenris didn’t have any answers and stayed still.

There was a sudden increase in pressure at Fenris’s hips as Anders pulled himself to sit up, using the grip to keep his balance. The shift brought Fenris to rest on the Mage’s thighs and he turned back to face the man. He felt caught by that honeyed gaze. In this position he was actually just a bit higher than the tall man. The smells were an intoxicating blend of what he had come to associate with comfort and sex.

“Fenris? What do you need?” Anders asked and released one hip to grasp Fenris's sword hand. “Do you want to stop?”

“No!” said roughly. This time he was the one to squeeze the Mage’s hand. His mind raced. What did he need? He needed help. He needed a guild to keep him safe from his past.

“Show me”, Fenris whispered. He focused on relaxing his white knuckled grip on the Mage’s hand. He slid his hand until he gripped the Mage by the wrist. Before he could think too hard about it he placed the Mage’s hand over the sizable bulge in the Mage’s trousers. The Mage inhaled sharply at the contact.

The Mage started to ask,“Are you su-”

“Show me”, insisted Fenris.

The Mage licked his lips, “If that is what you wish. Let me just-”. The Mage removed his shirt and lay down. He made short work of the laces of his trousers. The short, brassy gold hair lightly dabbled his chest and trailed downward was thicker at the human’s crotch. His arousal no-, his  _ cock _ , was blushed a brilliant red against the pale skin of the taunt stomach. While Fenris knew the Mage was larger than most humans here he hadn’t had the time or view to appreciate just how substantial it was. It was long like the man was tall and thick as humans were in all aspects compared to elves. The tip was peaking out of that bit of skin which covered it. Fenris’s own had been cut away before he could remember. Fenris had always secretly thought the single swollen knob human men had seemed a bit lopsided but right now, the shape of this one in particular gave Fenris a rush of arousal he felt low in his belly and made his own elven length leak excitedly. 

One of the Mage’s large hands loosely wrapped around the base of himself and ran up and down the smooth length slowly. Fenris was mesmerized.

“Like what you see?”, the Mage said. When Fenris looked up the Mage was propped up on an elbow with a look that gave new meaning to the term ‘cocky grin’. Fastas Vass, he was a beautiful man.

“Yes,” Fenris answered and enjoyed how flustered the blond momentarily became after the simple response. He recovered quickly.

“Well, good, but this is about you. Don’t forget yourself” Anders said with a wink and a pointed look to Fenris’s cock before laying back. He continued to lazily run his hand up and down his shaft with one hand while the other wandered over his stomach, across that impossible scar, and then brushed a finger back and forth over a nipple.

“Fenris touch yourself. Follow my lead”, the Mage said. His eyes were locked on Fenris.

Fenris reached to wrap one hand around his cock and another played with his nipple. The nipple was more sensitive than the rest of his chest but he found it was not very exciting. However, what the Mage was doing had him dropping his hand down to brace himself on the Mage’s hip as he increased the pressure of the hand around his cock as he pumped himself. He watched Anders pump himself more firmly with long strokes with an occasional twist along the end. The human was also taking turns with his nipples now and had gone from brushing them to pinching roughly and pulling in what looked to be a painful move. The Mage gasped at any rate. 

“You find pleasure in pain?”, Fenris asked.

“Just a little sometimes”, Anders gasped out,”I’ll stop if it bothers you. There are so many good things you can try”. Anders said and moved his hand down to cup his balls as he pumped.

“I didn't say it bothered me. It was just a surprise”, Fenris replied. He moaned as he cupped his own balls. They were far more sensitive. He applied more pressure when passing over the slight swell at the base of his cock as well as the swell at the end. He was not going to last much longer. As he felt the sensations building up he began to panic. He was going to make a mess. He had to stop. He had to move.

Fenris moved up to his knees to remove himself from the Mage but large, warm hands gripped his knees and guided him to remain in place. He stopped and one of the hands moved to his hip as the Mage sat up. They were a grounding pressure but not restraining.

“What’s wrong,” Anders asked with a Healer’s calm.

Fenris started, “Anders I need to get off-”

“That’s the idea”, Anders interrupted.

“It’s not a joke. If I don’t move I will make a mess of you, I-” Fenris continued. 

“That sounds good to me. Well, as long as you want to. I took my shirt off anticipating I’d be getting messy in this position. Do you want that Fenris? To let go like that? If not you could lay down beside me instead if you like. There’s nothing wrong with either,” Anders smiled affably up at him. It was so different from the cruel and mocking smiles he had received from- no. Fenris would not dwell on that. He realized that had been where his thoughts had been turning. He focused on calming his breathing. He focused on the warm smile in front of him instead of the ones which haunted him.

When he had come fully back to where he was and with whom he answered, “I want it Mage.” Fenris’s voice was harsher than he intended, but the Mage only smiled again and fell back onto the bed all long and lean with a relaxed smile. He left his strong hands resting on Fenris, massaging the muscles above his knees. The blond seemed wholly unconcern with his own prominent state of arousal which remained full.

“Do it then Fenris. Find your pleasure. It is yours after all. I’m right here. I want you to stroke yourself to completion right where you are if that is what you want”, Anders said dreamily. Fenris wanted to explore that body. Instead he explored his own. He took his aching length in hand and returned to stroking it with a groan.

“Yes. You are doing so well Fenris. Take what is yours. Take your pleasure. It is meant for you to have as you like.” the Mage's voice urged him on. The praise set off a tingle of pleasure through him and Fenris stroked himself fast and rough, propelling himself to that precipice he had been on the edge of earlier. 

“Yes Fenris. Was auch immer du willst schöner Elfenmann(1), ” Anders purred and licked his parted lips. He gripped Fenris tight on the thighs. That was enough to push Fenris over. He threw his head back and wailed as the pleasure racked his body. When his whited out vision cleared he was falling. No. He was jumping from his favorite olive tree. He was weightless an instant before his body was pulled to the ground. Sunlight and dappled leaf shadows rushed by until he landed in the hot dirt. He heard a laugh behind him but before he turned to see who it was the vision stopped and his eyes opened to a beam of light across the crumbling ceiling of the mansion. The Mage’s hands tethered him to the now but the memory remained even as he felt himself pulsing with further waves of his release. Fenris inhaled deeply. The mingled scents had an odd calming effect like wine. 

“Fenris”, the Mage whispered. Fenris looked down. The Mage was profusely coated in Fenris’s pearly spent. Seeing the Mage in such a state was unexpectedly pleasing. A thick line dripped down Anders’ check to his long throat. Anders reached up to slide his thumb from throat to chin, wiping the trail up. Fenris’s eyes widened as the Mage enveloped the thumbin his mouth, sucking at it as if it were a stray bit of juice from an apple. The display pulled one last spasm from Fenris. A last spurt released in a short arc, striping bright against the flush of the human’s straining length.

Fenris felt wrung out and light, as if he would float away without the Mage’s hands grounding him. He looked up to the Mage’s face and remained frozen except for panting while the sweetness of what just happened sunk in.

“Fenris”, the Mage called his name again, “how are you feeling? Did you like that?” The Mage was rubbing Fenris’s thigh muscles with deep pressure. 

“I am…,” words failed Fenris. There were no words Fenris could find in his addled mind to express how he was feeling. “...well. I liked it. I liked it very much.”

“Good,” Anders’ smile beamed, “you were brave and gorgeous.”

“You licked it”, Fenris stated and felt awkwardly exposed bringing it up.

“Yes. You taste sweet along with the same bitterness of seed humans have. It’s an interesting taste to me”, Anders mused, “I forgot how much elven men produce and how long your peaks last. I’m still jealous of that”.

“You did not attend to yourself”, Fenris noted with a glance to the Mage’s still rigid length. He was feeling more himself now.

“This wasn’t about me”, the Mage said quickly then added, “but if you don’t mind I would like to. My cock is getting uncomfortable”. 

“Show me then”, Fenris replied, then added with a grin “ _ bitte _ ”.

The Mage’s relaxed look changed to surprise, “ you said you didn’t know Ander”.

“You make me curious to learn Mage”, Fenris felt himself grin.

“Oh I can teach you lots of things Elf”, the Mage growled as he brought his hand to himself. Fenris felt his breath catch as the Mage used Fenris’s spent to slick himself, letting him pump aggressively while he palmed his now gleaming sack. The wet sound of it gave Fenris a thrill he could not understand. The Mage was soon breathing heavy, punctuated by moans. His heavy lidded eyes closed

Fenris rose onto his knees and leant forward onto his hand.

“Anders”, he said. The Mage’s eyes opened a bit to look at Fenris hoovered above him. Fenris glanced down and ran the thumb of his free hand over the pink nub of the Mage’s nipple. The Mage gasped, his pace disrupted. 

“It’s this something you would like, Anders?” Fenris asked, enjoying how he could pull such reactions from the Mage.

“Yes. Yes, please. Fuck. Fenris. Yes.” the blond babbled as Fenris took the nub between his thumb and finger and gently squeezed. The Mage made an incomprehensible sound and then moaned “I’m going to peak”. 

“Do it, but DO NOT bite yourself”, Fenris said with force and pulled on the nub as painfully hard as he had seen the Mage do before.

The Mage clenched his teeth and rumbled a deep moan as he spasmed. Fenris felt the hot spent striking against his stomach and chest. Fenris played with the Mage’s nipple gently as he shuttered through the end of his release. When the Mage relaxed Fenris moved his hand to push his thumb along the Mage’s lip and the Mage took it into his mouth to lick and suck as he had before. There was no blood.

“You did well”, Fenris said, hoping the words would affect the blond as they had Fenris. 

Mage panted for breath. His hand came up to gently card through Fenris’s hair then rested at the back of his head.

“Fenris,” the Mage said in a small guileless whisper. 

‘What is this feeling?’ Fenris thought.

The slam of the front door made him jump back.

“Fenris! It’s Hawke! Are you ready to go? We need to go bully Isabela out of bed and get a move on” Hawke bellowed.

***

Footnotes:

  
  


  1. Was auch immer du willst schöner Elfenmann - Anything you want handsome elf man
  2. Bitte - please



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok then! I wrote that. I told myself I'd not fade to black when it came to sexy bits and I'm sticking to it!
> 
> Now off to Sundermount where Fenris will attempt to process what happened, Isabela will be Isabela and Merrill/Hawke will be focused a lot. M/F and F/F descriptions ahhoy.
> 
> Oh, 
> 
> There will also be plot.


	19. Sunder on the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Hawke/Merrill interlude with a few different POVs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ^___^
> 
> Fenris is ansty and fluffy
> 
> There is Hawke/Merrill sexy times and drama

Chapter 19: Sunder on the Mountain

The air was sweeter up here under the sharpness of pine and the faint brine of the sea. Small wildflowers blossomed from rock ledges and from in between the stones of the nameless ruins. The sweltering summer air near turned gusty at the edge of the Vimmark mountains. As the group had ascended the wind and shadows from the tall, gloomy pines made the journey far more comfortable than the recent trip to the Coast. Still, Fenris was the only one not wiping his brow clear of sweat. It was a welcome benefit of the ice glyph charm hidden under his tunic and cuirass. It’s magic sent a mild chill running throughout his brands, chasing away the heat. The golden disk felt perpetually cold where it lay against his chest, as if it had been just put on after resting in a mountain stream. 

They had been beset by a group of thieves at a narrowing of the path. The cutthroats had sprung out from behind crumbling walls. Isabela was the first to notice them and shouted an alert to the group as she disappeared into the foliage to sneak up behind an enemy. Fenris had been protecting the rear of the group and took off towards the sound of her voice like a bolt from the Dwarf’s crossbow while Hawke and Merrill formed a guard around the children.

He drew the attention of as many attackers as he could while the pirate would seemingly appear out of thin air. Her blades would flash an instant sending spurts of crimson into the air before she would vanish again. Fenris was more precise than he could have hoped for. Each swing of his sword met it’s mark and he dodged the worst of attacks directed at him. The coolness running through his markings gave him the sense of his body which he had lacked when his pain was eased. Even the castings of the Witch, while still eliciting unfamiliar sensations, did not jar Fenris into a misstep. 

The warrior reveled in his returned control. That he was able to command his body so perfectly without the lyrium pain had him cutting through the thugs like a scythe and reigning down mighty blow after mighty blow. All other thoughts could be pushed down in the heat of battle all that remained was bloodlust.

There was one attacker left. The man had just been distracted by Isabela who had fallen back to shadows again. Fenris took advantage and swung in a great arc to hit the man just below the ribs. Fenris had felt the blade hit the spine and one of the large arteries ruptured, bleeding the thug out in less than a minute and spraying Fenris with a fountain of blood. 

The battle was over quickly. Fenris was covered in thrice as much blood as any of the others. He could feel it dripping hot along the cold white lines of his chin as he panted over his last kill. The body twitched the strange spasms of the recently dead.

“All done? Alas”, Fenris said to himself. He longed to test himself further.

“Good to see you’ve shaken whatever it was that had you off your game the last time”, Hawke slapped a hand on Fenris’s shoulder with a grin. Then his eyes glazed meaningfully down Fenris’s form as he said,“Though perhaps we should break while you clean up. Is any of that blood yours?”.

  
  


“A drop or two. These were poor fighters. A clean up would be prudent as I would not wish my sword to rust or my leather to crack”, Fenris through a glance back to where Merrill was kneeling in front of the children, “are the little ones unharmed?”

“They don't even have a scratch. Merrill guarded them. She is so sweet but she can be fiercer than a dragon when she needs to be. Maker I love that woman,” the Rogue looked over at the Dalish mage with an adoring look. A look that Fenris predicted meant they would be having a longer break. Humans.

“Not bad for ‘Team Expedable’ eh Hawke”, Isabela called out as she appeared out of nowhere.

“Stop calling us that. You’re not expendable to  _ me _ ”, Hawke returned. Isabela laughed as she strutted towards the nearest corpse. 

“We killed them, we get their stuff!”, Isabela shouted. She was already gleefully picking through a thief’s pockets.

Hawke and Merrill wandered off, supposedly to hunt for herbs. They had not wandered far enough so that Fenris’s keen ears were spared the sounds of what they were truly doing. The poorly muffled sounds of their coupling made Fenris clench his jaw and he forced himself not to think of the tantalizing sounds he had pulled from the Mage this morning. 

After years of venturing with Hawke and his companions Fenris had become accustomed to the lusty antics of the two human Rogues. Now though it was most definitely not the time for such things. The warrior was particularly unamused that Hawke and the Witch had left the wary elven children in the care of the two companions obviously least comfortable dealing with children: himself and Isabela. 

Fenris sat on a stone and cleaned the blood from his Greatsword in annoyance while Isabela continued picking through the remains of the thugs they had just dispatched. 

Thankfully the children were distracted with some wooden bobble the Witch had gifted them before she had disappeared with Hawke. They did not seem disturbed by the carnage. Fenris supposed they must have seen their share between fleeing the Blight and living in Darktown. They were both skinny even for elves, no doubt from lack of meals. They looked nothing alike save for that they were elves. The older girl was pale with short cropped brown hair curling around her ears and the little boy was bright blond and the sort of tan which Fenris knew would darken with time in the sun. 

Still, for all their differences the way they whispered to one another and moved in sync told Fenris they were brother and sister more than many who shared blood. There was a familiarity in the way the older girl guarded the boy. It stirred something in the warriors mind but whatever memory it called to was still hidden from him.

Perhaps it might return. He already had two brief but precious memories return to him. He kept going over them in his head in quiet moments: The baker and the olive tree. 

The warrior worked silently but he threw side glances at the children to be sure they did not wander off. He listened to the pirate as she hummed a shanty while she worked. Reaping loot after a fight always put her in a good mood. She must have found something which pleased her as she stopped humming and let out a wicked little laugh before strutting over towards Fenris. She fell back on a pristine patch of grass and dangled a glittering jewel on a broken necklace above her. She held a small but seemingly full sack in the other hand and kicked her booted legs over her head one at a time.

“We got some nice booty this time!” the Pirate said as she examined the pieces. Then added in a more amused voice, “From the looks they were giving each other I’d wager Hawke and Kitten are getting themselves some booty now as well.”

“Hmm,” Fenris replied, not wanting to encourage that topic. He took off his gauntlets and started cleaning the tiny joints.

He was successful in changing the topic, unfortunately the pirate’s new focus was no less uncomfortable.

“So what had you waiting around the bar in ‘The Rose’ to talk with Anders yesterday?” she said while trying to straighten out a damaged thin silver bracelet. The pirate’s voice was light as if she were making idle conversation but Fenris could feel her eyes on him. For all her displays of joviality, Isabela was deceptively shrewd. Very little escaped her notice. It was why she was such a fierce opponent, be it with her knives or cards. She was observing him keenly now, eyes sharp despite the amusement in her voice. It made him recall her recent threat to his balls.

_ ‘Kaffas’ _ . Fenris cursed in his head and pushed down his feelings so he wore his face like a mask. 

“The Mage has been... helping me”, Fenris began carefully.

The pirate looked unconvinced and said pointedly, “You looked guilty as a dog that got caught pissing the rug when we found you in the Rose backrooms. What did you do Fenris?” 

“I did not hurt him”, Fenris said quickly, "I...reacted poorly when I saw him tying up that elven woman. If you were watching me at the bar you know I apologized,” Fenris answered. Isabela seemed to have given him a favorable assessment as the look in her eye turned playful and without the vicious joy before a strike. 

“Oh, I was most likely already having fun with Osric. Such a gem that boy,” Isabela made an exaggerated sigh then turned back to smirk at Fenris,“Anders is helping you out is he? Or  _ helping you out _ ? He is looking so pretty lately and you have been moving less tensely. Is he  _ showing you the ropes  _ or maybe his electricity thing? He is so clever with those big hands of his, long fingers with just the right touch. Worth every coin”.

The image the pirate painted came unbidden to Fenris’s mind, both enticing and infuriating. A coldness twisted in his stomach and Fenris wished for something to smash. It was unpleasant and unfamiliar. Outwardly he merely paused in his cleaning. He did not have time for this now.

“Before you go making up more stories, he is helping me with an old injury, an old  _ magical  _ injury from my time as a slave. I do not wish to discuss it further”, Fenris said shortly. It was true, after a fashion. It seemed to appease the pirate for the most part.

“Well that’s nice. Maybe you two can actually get along. Everyone will be pleased and get to keep their balls”, Isabela said then sat up with a huff “Oh boo. There’s only one of these earrings.” From her finger dangled a golden hoop with a polished, round stone suspended in the center. It seemed to glow and changed colors in shades of brown and gold, the colors of Anders’ eyes.

“What is that stone?”, Fenris asked. He felt the weight of the disc where it rested against his heart. The Mage had fashioned it from his gold earring. 

“Just a bit of Tiger’s eye”, she answered and dropped it back in the sack, “we’ll divy this all up later when Hawke and Merrill finish getting frisky in the foliage”. From the sounds Fenris could hear, hopefully that would be very soon.

Isabela hopped up and said, “keep an eye on the children” before she sauntered off into the woods.

***

Hawke bit into the vine which covered his mouth in an effort to stifle his moan. The tendrile in his mouth was thankfully smooth while some of the others wrapped around his arms and legs had thorns which pricked his flesh as they held him spread eagle on the ground. The sharp little bursts of pain had him gasping and the contrast of pain heightened the pleasure he felt as Merrill enjoyed herself. 

He watched her ride him. Her thighs glowingly pale against his dark skin as she brought herself closer. The petite elf was not always so assertive sexually, but when she was particularly frustrated or anxious, such as when about to see her clan again, this commanding side would come out. However, she had never used her primal powers in this way on him, had never even used magic during sex before that lightning thing Anders had shown her when they were last on the coast. Hawke had absolutely no complaints about the additions. 

There was even a wicked part of him which was thrilled at the idea she might be using the drops of his blood from the thorn pricks to fuel the spell work. 

She was close. They both were. She was sighing and mewing as she snapped her hips quickly, angling for just the right angle. Elves were not as hot blooded as humans, but they were tighter and from his wild days remembered whether he lay with a man or woman they felt different inside. Alternating bands of give and tightness overwhelmed him. He focused on evening out his breathing. He was not allowed to finish inside her today but he wanted to feel her climax around him. He could be good for her.

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand to muffle her cries as her climax started. Elves lasted so long. By the time she was finishing Hawke was desperately on the edge. She pulled off of him and the vine in his mouth unwound as she practically jumped forward to kiss him. Her deft hand worked him until he was moaning into her kiss as he came undone beneath her.

When his body relaxed he broke the kiss and murmured into her pointed ear, “I want to hold you”. The vines retreated, a tickle of magic cleared the spent covering them, and he pulled the woman he loved into his arms. 

“Did you like that lethallin? It’s not something we could do in the city”, Merrill asked with her lithy voice breathless.

“I like anything with you, but yes. That was particularly amazing,” Hawked said contentedly. 

“Anders said a Dalish Warden kept him bound down all night like that once”, Merrill giggled and cuddled into his side. 

“Ha! He does like to go on about ‘Warden’s stamina’ but that  _ has  _ to be an exaggeration,” he said, letting out a laugh as he caressed the elf’s back, “Did he give you any other tricks you want to try?”

“There is one more thing but we’d need to wait until after my fertile cycle I’d like to surprise you,” Merrill said, resting her chin on his chest to smile sweetly at him.

“Yes please. I wouldn’t mind that electricity thing again though”, he said.

“That can be arranged”, she grinned down at him and added, “You held off so well”. Merrill played with the coarse hair of his beard.

“That was not easy, but I know what you wanted and what you didn’t”, Hawke replied.

“It is only three times a year for elves, next week we won’t need to worry”, Merrill said.

“I’m not the one who is worried, Merrill. I’d happily fill that silent old house with the sound of our children. I’d change their diapers too. I helped raise the twins after all. It will always be your decision to make though sweetheart”, he said with a pang of longing as he imagined it.

“Oh Hawke, you are so wonderful and strong and understanding. I still can’t believe how lucky I’ve been in meeting you. If we do this during my time I will undoubtedly become pregnant. I do not have time to be a mother right now, not with my study of the mirror nearly complete. There will be time after. Soon Vhenan, soon,” Merrill answered and kissed him on the cheek. 

Her final word felt ominous. At the mention of the mirror the cold dread which always shrouded his heart around the subject returned, souring the warmth of their embrace. Merrill did not seem to notice.

“We should get back before they begin to worry”, Hawke said with a quick squeeze to Merrill, sitting them both up and reaching for his discarded armor. 

“Yes, we should make it quite a bit further up before we make camp”, Merrill said, “The children are nervous about joining the clan. They will take them happily though. Bringing the old ways back to all of our people has always been a consideration for Sabrae clan. They will be well cared for.”

They dressed and spared a bit of time to look about the area for herbs. As luck would have it they found a patch of elfroot. When they returned to the camp. Hawke was glad to see Fenris was far less bloody and the children were playing in the nearby meadow.

“Where has ISabela gone to?”, Merrill beat him to the question. 

“Right here kitten”, a sultry voice said from behind them.

Merrill jumped in surprise and Isabela laughed. 

“Isabela , must you do that?”, Merrill asked.

“No but I will”, Isabela answered smiling.

“We should get moving”, Hawke said to the group.

They divided up the loot from the thieves and started off on the path up the mountain again. 

“Now come here sweet thing and let me tell you about last night. I finally got Brigette out of those leather pants”, Isabela called cheerfully to Merrill .

“Oh? Which one is she again?”, Merrill asked.

“The one from last Wicked Grace Night,” she said.

“Oh, she was pretty, but I thought I saw her kissing her ‘business partner’?”, Merrill said confused.

“Oh kitten the three of us had business together for  _ hours. _ That is one of the things women are best at”, Isabela said with a wink.

Merrill giggled and pranced to the lead of the group with Isabela. The children walked in the middle, Hawke close behind them. Fenris took the rear. 

“Hawke,” the warrior’s voice was quiet. Hawke looked over at his friend who was shifting his gaze back and forth. 

“Is there something wrong Fenris?”, Hawke’s hand automatically went for a knife.

“No,” Fenris said quickly, I had a question”. Hawke relaxed.

“Of course Fenris, what is it?”, Hawke asked.

“You took a single earring with a tiger’s eye stone in it when we split the spoils earlier. Could I trade you something for it?”, Fenris asked. 

Well this was just odd.

“Sure, Fenris. You could have just asked for it earlier you know,” Hawke said and Fenris nodded.

As he handed the earring over he was still puzzled by his friend’s odd shiftiness over such a little trinket. Then it hit him - Fenris did not have pierced ears. He was getting someone a gift. Hawke could not stop the smile from spreading over his face but he did not question his very private friend.

“You know, you can talk to me about anything”, Hawke said as they continued walking.

“I thank you”, Fenris said, “the same applies to you my friend”. 

A sudden peal of laughter had Hawke glancing to Merrill and Isabela. The cold dread from earlier clenched around his heart again.

“I have a bad feeling about this Arulin'Holm. I have never wanted to fail at something so much in my life”, Hawke said.

“Will you truly help her get it? I was surprised you agreed to it considering how much you fight with her about it,” the warrior asked.

“I don’t know Fenris. I just don’t know”, Hawke said as his pushed his fingers through his hair as they continued their journey up the mountain.

***

“You are siding with the Keeper?” Merrill exclaimed in disbelief. “I know what I am doing, Hawke. Give me the Arulin'Holm”. She said firmly.

“I’m keeping it. I can’t let you do this" Hawke said with finality.  


“You are keeping a priceless heirloom of my clan? You have no right! You aren’t even Dalish! I can’t believe you! Why did I trust you?" Merrill returned with outrage.  


“Merrill please, I love you but I just can’t! It will get you killed and if I give it to you I will have killed you. You are the smartest person I have ever met, why can’t you see that? I would rather you were alive and hating me than dead by my hand”, Hawke said. 

“I am not a child to be looked after! This is  _ my  _ history. I have studied this for years. Who are you? Just another Shemlan man telling an elf what to do. I, I have nothing further to say to you. Creators I can’t even bear to look at you”, Merrill said bitterly and sprinted ahead of the group. Hawke hung his head. The weird elven knife thing looked heavy in his hand for something so small.

“Well that went to shit”, Isabela said as she watched the scene play out.

“Indeed”, the broody warrior answered, frowning. His eyes were trained on Hawke.

“This is why love is for fools, handsome”, she said and sighed before taking off after Merrill. She had a kitten to console.

Notes:

Vhenan - heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never romanced Merrill in game but I watched the cut scenes. I didn't really like the way it was done (I don't like how it is implied she has to be taken care of) so I wanted to write it a bit differently. I hope I made their fight fairly even. We know Merrill is horribly wrong (based on how things turn out for her in her quest line) but I think she has a lot of good reason to be pissed. 
> 
> The next chapter with be more general and dealing with fallouts from this and previous chapters and set up for the next adventure. Then some more direct Anders/Fenris interaction.


	20. Love is No Way to Treat a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second and last part of the interlude in which we get some Isabela POV, the trip gets even worse, and we find out what Anders is doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20 chapters! I can't believe it! Thank you for reading!

**Chapter 20: Love is No Way to Treat a Friend**

Isabela started to think she might hate Sundermount more than the Wounded Coast, even if there were less squirrels. Oh, sneaking a peak while a feisty Kitten had her way with Hawke had been delicious and teasing Fenris was always fun but all in all this trip was the worst. 

Firstly there were children. They seemed perfectly decent as far as children went but Isabela didn’t know what in Thedas to do with children. 

Then there was the fight between the Templars and elves about that mage boy from a few years ago. Hawke just couldn’t keep his bloody nose out of it of course so Isabela had to wet her blades with Templar blood.

Finally getting to the Dalish camp and unloading the elven children had been a relief until Hawke had them marching off to fight some horrible spidery elf eating thing so they could get kitten her magic dagger. Isabela had been a bit curious about that because- daggers. Daggers were fun.

It went horribly of course. Poor Merrill had been a mess after that elf boy had gotten his fool self killed and Isabela could have punched Fenris for being such an ass about it. Then after all that trouble Hawke didn’t even give Merrill the blasted thing! Men!

Camping out halfway down the mountain had not been restful for anyone. Merrill’s face was somehow even paler than normal with dark circles under her eyes from refusing to sleep. Hawke’s dark eyes were often too bright with tears he refused to shed.

The remaining descent down from Sundermount was nearly silent. Isabela hated it. Kitten was still so angry she just stalked off ahead of everyone alone and Hawke trudged on with a grim vacant look. All her attempts to cheer them up with distraction fell flat or seemed to make it worse. She had no idea how to handle either of her friends, it was so frustrating. She felt useless, not in the normal good way. It was useless like a torn sail wavering tattered when you really needed to ride the wind.

Fenris had not fared any better with Hawke though he supported his decision to keep the dagger. The two of them walked close to each other in their somber little march.

“This is why I don’t do love Fenris. It’s always a fucking mess”, Isabela huffed as they walked along the narrow path. There was a time when the look Hawke had given her had made her heart beat fast and she couldn’t really tell if it meant she wanted to run or...something else, something stupid. She really dodged an arrow to the heart there. 

“So it would seem. I wouldn’t know”, Fenris said. His expression was so cool Isabela could almost feel the heat of the summer dissipate around that lanky body. Sexy elf. Isabela smiled.

“Now lust, lust is a beautiful thing. When we get back to Kirkwall I’m going to take a nice bath, have a good drink, and indulge in some sinful fun. You are welcome to join me in any or all the above sweet thing”, she purred. Flirting with Fenris was so fun. He would tease her back in that dry way of his and seemed to be coming around to her way of thinking. Not today though. Instead of his usual wry grin he seemed off guard in a way she hadn’t since she’d first started this years ago. 

“I will be otherwise engaged”, Fenris muttered. 

Wait. Holy Shit. She had been teasing with the bit about his more relaxed movements earlier. Maybe she wasn’t far off the mark. Not with Anders of course though. That would be, well, that would be damned sexy and imagining it conjured up some wonderful ‘friend-fiction ideas’, but in reality would most likely end in one or both of them dead or seriously injured. 

Someone else then, but who?

“Andraste’s granny panties! Are you actually seeing someone?”, Isabel exclaimed. 

“What? No”, Fenris said quickly. Too quickly. Either he was or he was wanting to. 

Isabela continued as if Fenris hadn’t spoken at all, “Who are they? I’m disappointed it’s not me who finally got in those tight pants but this is so juicy!” she said excitedly. It didn’t make up for this terrible trip but it was at least something.

“I am not bedding anyone!” the elf groused.

“Yet?”, Isabela responded and laughed at the glower he shot her. It was practically a smolder.

Isabela would definitely investigate this, after a bath, a drink and a tumble in the sag or three. Maybe Brigette and Arna would be up for it. Couples were so much fun as long as they could keep their pesky emotions to themselves. Ah, that reminded her of her favorite threesome.

“Fenris, did I ever tell you about the time I seduced two Grey Wardens?”, Isabela grinned, “The Hero of Fereldan and her lover. It’s true what they say about them you know, insatiable”. She sighed for effect. Fenris didn’t respond. At all. His face was as blank as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Oh boo. If you’re going to be like that I’m not going to share my best stories with you”, Isabela skipped ahead and pulled out her daggers to practice as she walked. 

Since nobody was being any fun she mused over that amazing night with the Wardens. Not for the first time she wondered about Anders. He had been delightful at the Pearl but he was a Warden now. The thought of testing out a Warden’s stamina again had been tantalizing when they met up again in Kirkwall. It was too bad the stick in the mud wouldn’t allow it.

Though perhaps that stick in the mud was loosening up after all she mused, thinking back on the last week. That ship had sailed already. If Anders wasn’t such a damned romantic she would try to get him in her bed again, but it would just end up hurting him. Love is no way to treat a friend and Anders was one of her few friends. Though perhaps with how pretty he was making himself lately she could help him find some fun elsewhere. 

She could finally see the city gates in the distance. This trip from the void was almost over. 

That was when the slave hunters attacked. It had been a good call for Hawke not to pursue the Magister right away. This party was a mess.

By the time they finally walked through the Gates of Kirkwall nobody was speaking. Both elves stormed off furious, Merrill for being denied her magic dagger and Fenris for being denied running off to the Holding caves for vengeance.

Hawke followed Merrill with his eyes until he noticed Isabela noticing. Then he slunk off to Hightown and Isabela walked to the Hanged Man alone, happy this ‘adventure’ was over. 

***

“Look, I’m not asking for fun. What are you so worried about anyway? Oh no! Anders is going to help people harmed by blood magic, the horror!” Anders snapped irritatedly as he sat on the floor of Hawke’s entrance hall, not too close to the fire, just in case, and wrestled the cloth wrap around the squirming baby. “Shouldn’t you want that?”

“It is a rare volume and our Chantry is lucky to have a copy in its library. I would not see it damaged or stolen. This patient of yours could come to the Chantry healers. You do not live in the safest part of town Anders”, Sebastian replied.

“Well I guess that’s an improvement from whatever it was that made Nana Clara cry”, Anders grumbled in irritation, then noticed Sebastian’s fallen look. The look quickly changed with Sebastian's blue eyes becoming steely in that way they did before he said something condescending. Perhaps it was the Brothers noble roots which rubbed his inner farm boy the wrong way at times. 

Now though he didn’t want to cost Fenris something which might help in healing his memory. The Mage Underground had limited useful knowledge. It was lucky he had visited Evelina. She had apparently studied the writing of Adralla of Vyrantium similar works. She had been adamant that the book Sebastian could get him was the best one in Thedas on the subject.

Also, Anders was just Maker damn tired between healing and caring for a baby, too tired for another fight. 

Anders sighed, “Just... look, I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy week. I’m sure it hasn’t been fun for you either. I appreciate you meeting with me about it. I’m trying to help someone and they are extremely and understandably private. They really got their head messed with Sebastian. I would think you’d be especially sympathetic. I’ve seen the work of the healers here. It’s fair. Fair won’t cut it here. I’m sure Hawke wouldn’t mind keeping it safe in his library for me to visit and read”. Anders finished tucking the diapering cloth in and fastened the pin. He lifted the little girl to his chest and stood up.

After a moment the Chantry Brother replied, “That would be acceptable”. His eyes were no longer so cold, but still wary. He unslung a bag from his shoulder. He unwrapped a large leather bound tome and placed it on the table.

When he turned back his bright blue eyes were distracted by the baby. Anders couldn’t fault him for that, she was a cute little thing with untamable sable curls and curious eyes. Those dark eyes looked up at Anders before she tried to pull his nose off his face. Anders laughed and the throaty laugh of Sebastian joined him.

When they calmed the Brother looked a bit hesitant before he said, “There is hardly anything I agree with you about but you do the Maker’s work in helping those poor souls. Is there anything I could do? To help you Clinic I mean.”

Anders was taken aback by the offer from the Brother. He took a moment to consider as he hosted the little girl up and made her laugh by exaggerating his smile. Babies were so much easier than Chantry Brothers.

“Lirene always takes donations at Fereldan Imports, but we can always use herbs for potions, food, clean cloth for bandages, and blankets come autumn”, Anders replied, still making faces at the baby.

“I will see what I can do”, the Brother. When Anders glanced over the Marcher still looked troubled. An idea was starting to form in Anders mind but the thought was interrupted.

‘ _He wishes to make further amends? We should assist him in his atonement. It would be Just_ ’, Justice voice rumbled inside Anders' skull.

‘What? How? Oh no. Nana Clara’s memory is failing; it would just confuse her. Just let him help with supplies’, Anders internally whined at his companion. He could feel the Spirit’s unease with that. To go against his nature grated him. ‘Oh, fine. What would you have us do?’, Anders relented. It was a little thing to appease Justice and the Spirit had to see so much injustice in Kirkwall.

‘ _He must make amends in the clinic, where he shamed himself. I will watch that it is done_ ’, the Spirit’s voice rang with the mellifluous energy he had when his path was clear. The thought of the Brother in the Clinic was not pleasant to Anders, but it was worth it if let Justice carry out his nature. 

“Anders? Are you well?” a deep Brogue brought Anders out of his muddled mind. 

“I’m fine, just thinking”, Anders smiled, “You know, there are Darktowner folk who can not walk up all those stairs to hear the Chant”, Anders said slowly with a side glance at the Brother, “If there were a brave Brother willing and able to brave Darktown to Chant they might be welcome in the Clinic from time to time”. 

“That is an interesting idea,” the Brother’s blue eyes met his with a tentative smile. It was the first time he could remember the brother ever directing a smile that wasn’t a smirk at him. 

Anders put on what he knew was a cheeky grin and added, “Well just as long as you don’t harp on about Mages of course. I don’t really see that being helpful in Darktown away, especially not in a Mage’s home. More Canticle of Trials no Transfigurations 1:2. Does that sound alright?”

“That sounds reasonable under the circumstances”, Sebastian answered. “As long as you don’t bring up that Manifesto of yours while I’m trying to reach the people”.

“Fine, fine. While you are with people I’ll leave you be and you pretend you don’t see any mages there, be it me or anyone else”, Anders said.

At Sebastian’s hesitation Anders added, “Have I not made it clear that I do not abide blood magic? My Clinic is a place of safety, that includes other mages from time to time. If you can’t respect that then this isn’t a good idea.”

Sebastian gave a considerate look, “As long as there is no blood magic”.

“There won’t be”, Anders said.

“Alright then, perhaps on an afternoon next week?”, Sebastian said.

‘ _It is Just_ ’, echoed with the calmness that came when he was actively working in accord with his nature. That calmness washed across Anders’ frayed nerves like a cool rush of water.

Just then the tall front door opened. A beam of bright sunlight cut through the foyer with the long shadow of a man embedded within it. Hawke was home. 

***

“Hawke!” Anders and Sebastian both called out happily and then looked at each other, a bit thrown by their unexpected harmony before they both walked over to their friend. The way the light hit cast Hawke in darkness until they got closer. His normally jovial face was solemn.

Bodahn started to take Hawke’s weapons and gear to be sorted and cleaned.

“Hello”, Hawke said, his dark eyes darted from their faces to the floor.

“What’s wrong? Do you need healing?” Anders asked.

“Hmm? No. Not unless your magic can fix heartache,” Hawke laughed bitterly. 

“What has happened?” Sebastian asked softly.

“Merrill left me”, Hawke answered, removing his leather vest while he walked over to the chair by the fire and collapsed into it. He stared into the flames.

“You didn’t help her get that artifact for her mirror then? You did the right thing Hawke”, Anders said.

“Oh I got it alright”, Hawke said and pulled out a strange, short blade. The metal was dark but the surface showed multicolored iridescent waves patterned like wurls in wood. 

“Oh”, Anders answered.

“On this occasion Anders is correct, you did the right thing”, Sebastian lay a comforting hand on Hawke’s shoulder. “I will stay and pray with you if you wish”.

Hawke’s deft hands stowed the dagger away and he ran a hand roughly through his thick hair. “I’m tired of losing those I love. My family is all gone, dead except for Beth but she can barely even write to me with whatever she is up to in the Wardens. Anders, if you hadn’t been there in the Deep Roads with us I would have gotten her killed too. It’s like I’m cursed. Maybe I’m just meant to be alone”, Hawke said eyes back on the low flames of the fire.

“Hush that nonsense Hawke. You can’t-” Anders started but was interrupted by a little hand pulling on the short hairs at the nap of his neck which hung loose of his hair tie, “ouch! Stop that you!” Anders removed the surprisingly strong little hand from his head and was startled by Hawke’s booming laugh. 

“Carver used to do that when he wasn’t getting enough attention”, Hawke said, a tired smile on his face. On an impulse Anders handed the baby over to him. Hawke took her, sitting her up on his knee while holding her around the chest and back with both hands. He bounced her slowly, making her laugh. Hawke’s face grew brighter.

“Any luck finding her family?”, Hawke asked, not taking his eyes off her. 

“Varric found out her mother’s name was Rosie but couldn’t find a name for the baby. She was a Fereldan refugee with no other family to speak of. Her lover, the babe’s father, was an elven servant in Hightown who died in a mugging on his way home not long after the baby was born”, Anders answered. 

“The Chantry cares for many orphans. I can take her back today if-”, Sebastian started but was interrupted.

“ **_No!_ **”Anders said, sudden and with an eerie harsh resonance before he even realized he was going to speak. The baby cried at the sound.

“Anders. She will be clothed, fed and educated. It is a good, safe place for her”, Sebastian said with a knitted brow while Hawke comforted the little girl.

“It also ripped me from my mother’s arms when I was 12. I’m glad you find your peace there but the idea of giving up a child to it-, I just can’t do it. Perhaps Varric will find something”. Anders said.

“You are all alone in the world too”, Hawke said softly to the baby as he rocked her to his chest. Anders and Sebastian both stopped to just look at the pair. What was it about Hawke that just commanded attention? The baby was squirming then with a turn of her head was asleep on Hawke's shoulder. 

“Unless Varric actually does turn up a decent relative, I’m keeping her”, Hawke said in his uncompromising voice. 

Anders smiled and when he looked over Sebastian was as well. 

“That is a blessed idea Hawke”, Sebastian said.

“I can help get you situated”, Anders said excitedly. She wasn’t going to the Chantry, she was going to have a good home, and he would get to see her.

“Well, if there is nothing else, I better get back to the Chantry. Oh, I have left a book in your care for the Mage to use,” Sebastian said and pointed to the book on the table.

“No problem. Actually. I was hoping you both might help me with a couple of things. The first one I have put off far too long. Tomorrow morning I will be going to the alienage. That ‘Dreamer’ mage Feynriel who we sent to the Dalish a few years ago is in some sort of trace and the Keeper needs our help to pull him out of the fade, literally apparently. It should be interesting.” Hawke said. 

“What do you mean literally?”, Anders asked dubiously. His mind going back to the adventure in Blackmarsh where the human Anders and the Spirit of Justice had first met.

“I mean she’s going to do some Dalish magic and we are going into the fade to rescue a lost mage. It should be a walk in the park for you right?”, Hawke said with a little smile.

“The Golden City was corrupted by such folly. The fade is no place for a Brother of the Chantry Hawke. No. I will pray for your safety but this is a place I can not follow,”Sebastian said somberly.

“I understand Sebastian”, Hawke said, ”I’ll see you for cards tonight, right?”

“I would not miss it Hawke”, Sebastian said, more relaxed as he nodded, “Until then”. The brother made his way out of the estate. Hawke rocked the baby and Anders flipped through the tome.

Anders had just found a passage which seemed especially relevant to Fenris’s situation. It seemed a way to check for ‘bound’ memories. Ah, and it required an advanced Spirit Healer. Anders smiled to himself when Hawke interrupted, “Shit. I forgot to ask Sebastian to help the day after tomorrow. Before we made it back to Kirkwall slave hunters ambushed us trying to get Fenris. We killed them of course”.

“Of course”, Anders said.

“Yes, but apparently the apprentice to Fenris’s old Master is hiding out in the Holding Caves. Fenris wanted to storm off to kill her right away but I knew we needed to prepare. I’d hate to ask but could you stop by to see Fenris before you head home? He was so angry with me he ran off and I’m not sure if he was wounded”, Hawke said.

Anders' heart raced between the excitement of the discovery in the book and worry for the warrior. What if Fenris was ambushed at the mansion? 

“Count me in for the Holding Caves too”, Anders said. 

“Really? Just like that?” Hawke eyed him.

“We’ve been getting along better. Besides you know I hate slavery and blood magic”, Anders said.

“Yes, yes. I know”, Hawke said nuzzling his nose in the soft fluff of the baby hair. 

“You two really do look perfect”, Anders said. 

“Hmm, thanks”, Hawke said softly with his eyes closed.

He slipped the book under his coat while Hawke was busy with the baby.

“Well, I better be going then before it gets too late. There is mashed food and goat’s milk for her in the kitchen. Ask Bodahn for diapers and gowns. Hey, you’re going to have to think up a good name for her”, Anders stood up and grabbed his staff. 

“Thank you for everything Anders”, Hawke replied.

Anders quickly made his way to the mansion, dodging the dirty looks of Hightowners on the way.

  
  


Footnotes:

  1. Transfigurations 1:2



_Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him._

_Foul and corrupt are they_

_Who have taken His gift_

_And turned it against His children._

_They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones._

_They shall find no rest in this world_

_Or beyond._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked playing with different POVs these two chapters but it was hard. 
> 
> Does it feel like I'm going to far out on a tangent? I wanted to flush out some characters.
> 
> I hope I wrote Sebastian ok again :(
> 
> Gah, I'm anxious from trying new things.
> 
> I rather like my knife wielding not so secretly softie Hawke. Adoption is a serious decision that should be given lots of thought though. Hawke has really wanted kids for a long time in this fic though :)
> 
> For the Hawke/Merrill fans I want to assure you there will be a happy end.
> 
> That said- onward to lots of Anders and Fenris!
> 
> I am very excited but nervous to write the next chapter. It will have plot, my own weird theories into the Anders & Justice's mind and magic in general, action, and Anders/Fenris sexiness.


	21. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn more about fade Spirits and Anders' past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've decided to split what I was writing into 2 chapters. I hope you like this one. It has action and something I've had in my head for a while.

**Chapter 21: Practice**

Whenever Justice was restless he pushed them to action, relentlessly. 

Before this new division brought on by Fenris’s strange touch Anders felt the restlessness as indistinguishable from his own. Anders had never been able to sit still for long anyways so the main difference after they had joined was having a direction and the intense focus which overtook him when they finally worked towards the Spirit’s purpose.

Since they had separated enough to speak, Justice's restlessness had him speaking directions to Anders, as he had with Sebastian earlier. This new distracting inner conversations between them had caused those around him to worry.

Now though Justice was silent, even as Anders felt the Spirit’s edginess make their heart beat faster. Since Anders had read that passage in the tome the part of their mind which was Spirit was tense with potential energy as the moment before a lightning strike.

This Enchanter Rhys was quite impressive. Anders had been so excited when he read the passage in 'Comprehensive Study on Denizens of the Fade':

_...The victim’s memories may be bound, wrapped in what will appear to be pieces of the fade or traces of demons themselves not unlike wisps somehow held in place. No Mage has been able to sunder such ties alone without resorting to blood magic but a skilled Spirit Healer may call upon a Spirit of the Fade to unwind these bindings and restore a memory. The binding and unbinding of memories may be an innate ability of all denizens of the fade whether they choose to use it or not._

_Indeed Spirits themselves are also able to bind the mind in such ways but as of yet they have not been noted to damage it in the process. Indeed, the Spirit Healer Clarissa de Amiot purportedly guilded a Spirit of Compassion to bind the memories of those overcome by horrors witnessed during the 3rd Blight._

_Care must be taken as a sudden flood of many such memories may drive the victim to madness. Therefore it is imperative to identify the bindings and assess for and damage before any attempt to unbind. The following will detail how such assessments may be made with a Spirit’s aid..._

The anxiety building in Anders from the Spirit’s unrest drove him to be the one questioning Justice unrelentingly for a change. If he wasn’t so distracted he might find humor in that. 

‘This will right a great injustice done to Fenris. You are still able to assist in this?’, Anders thought.

“ _I am unsure. I am not as I was_ ”, Justice’s voice sounded muffled. 

“Why are you agitated? Why are you trying to pull away from me? Are you afraid we will hurt him? We will be careful Justice”, Anders asked the Spirit but even though the Spirit did not respond Anders felt that was not the problem. It was confusing. 

Anders had just ascended the stairs to hightown. As he distractedly turned the corner onto the street leading to the Mansion he was nearly knocked over by an elven woman who was running around the corner. Being much smaller than Anders she did not fare as well, and bounced backwards to land on her backside on the stones. He lent down to help her up. 

“I beg your pardon serrah”, the elf squeaked. The poor woman had such a look of fright and she trembled even as she allowed Anders to assist her.

“Are you alright? You are shaking. Is someone after you? I can assist. There is never a guard when you need them, even in Hightown it seems”, Anders rambled.

“No serrah. It’s nothing like that. I’m probably just being silly, but do be careful not to get to close that place on the end there,” She nodded her head in the direction of the Mansion. “The other servants told me it is haunted. I thought they were just teasing the new girl but the most dreadful sounds have been coming from the place.” 

She shook her head and pinched her already thin lips together anxiously before turning back to Anders and giving him a short curtsey. With forced calmness she said, “do be careful serrah” and briskly continued towards the stairs. 

When Anders approached the door he paused for a moment, anxious. He undid the tie in his hair and smooth it out then re-tied it more neatly. He wished he had spared a glance in a mirror at Hawke’s before he left. They had not actually had time to discuss what had happened the morning before the trip to Sundermount. The elf had looked pleased and then a bit shy once their clothes were on. What if he regretted it after time apart? 

A loud crash shook the door under his hand, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Well this is just going to be as fun as a kick in the head”, Anders muttered to himself as he opened the door. When he stepped from the torch lit foyer to the dim main hall he only had an instant to react, casting a barrier to prevent a large piece of masonry from crushing him into a bloody smear. The telekinetic energy shimmered and pulsed from absorbing the force.

“Mage, what are you doing here?” Fenris’s voice echoed from above, thick with anger. Anders did not immediately see him in the shadowed hall. The warrior was crouched on a partial wall to some second story room Anders had never been in like some sort of forbidding statue. 

Even as a young boy Anders had used humor and charm to get himself out of trouble. Sometimes though his mouth would act like oil on a fire. Anders could never just back off when it came to people trying to intimidate him. It was like an itch. He could not resist even if he knew it would probably cause more trouble in the long run. 

“Admiring your choices in redecorating. The new sky lights are lovely but won’t it get drafty come Autumn? It's a picturesque place though. Aside from being ruined and all your neighbor's terrified that it’s haunted,” Anders said in an overly cheerful voice as he made an exaggerated motion to the crumbling ceiling then brought his hand to scratch his head in a dramatic contemplative gesture as he asked, “How did you even do that?”

Fenris merely gruffed in displeasure. The warrior jumped off the ledge to grab hold of a banner pole and perform a graceful flip to land in a crouch on the ground level in front of Anders. When he rose from where he landed he stood with his back arched like an angry cat. 

“I have an extreme lack of patience today Mage. What is it you want?”, the warrior said with a glare.

“Oh life, liberty, and the freedom to shoot lighting at assholes, which I hear is in our future the day after tomorrow. Lucky me. Today I’ll settle for making sure my favorite cranky elf is healthy,” Anders said with a smile.

“You know about Hadriana?”Fenris said, eyes narrowed.

“I was at Hawke’s tending to that little girl you saved when he got home”, Anders replied.

“Ah. How is the child?”, Fenris asked in a softer tone, looking away.

“She is healthy, hale and now a Hawke it seems. She needs a first name though. I hope Hawke doesn’t pick something horribly boring”, Anders said.

“Hawke is... adopting the girl? That is... good”, Fenris said. HIs tone was lighter but he started pacing in agitation. Anders could not see any blood on the elf, but perhaps he had tended to himself.

“Do you have any injuries from your trip?”, Anders asked.

“Scratches, nothing of consequence”, the elf said shortly.

“Even a scratch can kill if it festers. Best to let your healer check since he’s literally right in front of you. I take it the ice glyph worked fairly well since you seem so lively”, Anders said walking towards the warrior.

“Yes. It worked remarkably well,” Fenris answered, still dour. 

Anders reached out his hand and pulled a glow of blue spirit healing magic from the fade into his hand, the only type of magic he now knew did not hurt Fenris but still affected him in a troublingly intimate way. Ander softened his voice as he went into Healer mode when he asked, “May I? It would be good to have you at full strength just in case more hunters are sent, right?”

“I-”, Fenris let out a sigh,” very well”, he said and fixed a stern gaze to the floor.

Anders let a small spell suffuse the warrior, knowing how it affected the elf Anders’ opted for restraint. Fenris’s expression did not change but he did have a flush from cheek to the tips of his ears. Anders followed with a shallow diagnostic spell, which showed no remaining injuries.

“There. How do you feel? Anything I missed?” Anders asked gently. Fenris was far from his only patient to get twitchy around magic. Now that Anders knew the extent as to why the elf was so magic averse he resolved to be as careful as possible.

Fenris bent his torso side to side and then twisted back and forth. He jumped into the smooth motions of one of his fighting practice routines. He made such complex motions seem effortless. His face was still unreadable as stone as he said “I am no longer injured”. 

“If you didn’t light up like a firefly you would be a natural at that stealthiness Isabela and Hawke get up to”, Anders said as he admired the warrior’s moves. Fenris continued as if he hadn’t heard.

Anders continued undaughten by the silent warrior, “You were gone five days, where has the pain spread to?”

Fenris stopped in his routine facing away as he sheathed his sword. He did not turn back to look at Anders as he responded, “It has not spread below my elbows”. 

“Andraste’s knickers that went fast”, Anders exclaimed, “I want to talk with you about your memories. I have found something that may help, but let’s see to that pain first. I’ll go to your chamber and get ready for it”. He turned towards the nearest staircase leading to Fenris’s chambers.

He had only taken a step when he was halted by a sharply adamant “No” from the warrior behind him. It echoed in the empty hall. Anders stumbled a bit and turned around to look at the elf speculatively.

“And why not?” Anders asked.

“Fasta vass! Right now I can feel nothing but hate and the desire to rip the hearts from Magesters,” Fenris growled and moved quickly so that he was suddenly directly in front of Anders. His eyes met Anders’ with intensity as he asked “Do you really think it wise to bear yourself to me like that?”

Anders' mouth went dry at the unusual intensity of those green eyes, but he made himself smile. “You wouldn’t hurt me”, he said calmly.

“You are so sure of that?” Fenris asked disbelievingly.

“Yes I am, but maybe you need to let out that anger more than you need to have your pain relieved right now. I can help with that too. That would be great actually. I really need the practice myself,” Anders said excitedly and started towards Fenris’s chambers again with the elf close behind him.

‘ _This is not wise Anders_ ’, Justice perked up in the back of his mind. 

‘Better here than against people trying to kill me. It could save lives one day. This is long overdue Justice. Why are you only wanting to speak with me now after hiding so long?’, Anders pushed the thought. 

‘ _Be careful_ ’, Justice replied and fell silent again. 

“Oh? How exactly can you help with that Mage? You are more proficient in using your staff physically than most Mages I have seen but you are not exactly strong in close combat unless you get your dem- ‘Spirit’ involved”, Fenris scoffed.

“That you’ve seen elf. I’ve always been a Healer but was also a decent Arcane Battlemage in the Wardens,” Anders’ smirked and tilted his head to the side.

“Then why have you not used those skills in the years we’ve been fighting with Hawke?”Fenris asked, clearly critical of Anders' claims..

“Well, after Justice some things, like close combat got a little disorienting. Before he was with me, Justice was in the body of a Warden named Kristoff, a warrior. After we merged it was like I had two sets of instincts in close combat. I found myself going into shield stances and feeling out of sorts holding a staff. I don’t need to tell you, that can get someone dead quick so I tried to keep my distance in battle. It really would be good to try and sort it out. I used to be pretty good going from all the dead darkspawn”. Anders said as he took out the tome and placed it on the Desk near the door then placed his bag on the floor.

“There’s another person in your head?”, Fenris exclaimed, his stony expression broke into shock.

“What? No! He’s long gone, was long gone even with Justice. No, it’s just the odd lingering memory, some instincts I should not have and-”, Ander wrinkled his nose in distaste, “an extensive knowledge of Orlesean Flower Language ''.

“Hmm, that is still disturbing,” Fenris sounded un-convinced.

“Eh, it’s not so bad, almost like getting a tune stuck in your head. More annoying than anything really”, Anders replied as he took off his coat and lay it on the desk. 

Fenris studied Anders a moment and then asked,”These techniques, I have heard of them after a fashion. They might have proven useful. Why have you not tried to sort them out before?”

Anders shrugged and sat back on the desk as he replied,“Since I started running around with Hawke my healing has been the most useful and he always had you or Aveline for the thick of it. I’ve always had a knack for Healing no matter what else I dabble in. It wasn’t like I had a warrior to practice with anyway. Aveline was always busy with the guard and I couldn’t imagine you wanting to help. With as busy as I got in Darktown the first few years Healing was more important and I just sort of forgot to work it out”.

“You forgot”, Fenris said with a raised eyebrow, “You are an excellent Healer, but a very strange man”.

Anders laughed at that.

“We can practice without our weapons or armor. No direct attack magic from me, no heart ripping from you. So what do you say? Ready to take back what you said about pining me so easily?” Anders asked teasingly.

“Not likely Mage”, Fenris said. His voice still held agitation but he was taking off his gauntlets as he spoke.

“Oh I have no doubt you _will_ pin me at some point, just that I will be making you work for it”, Anders hopped off the desk. “Want to wager on it? Loser covers drinks tonight during Cards?”

“I’m not going tonight”, Fenris said.

“Oh sure you are and even if you weren’t you will be next week, you know, after you get your bloody vengeance”, Ander said cheerfully. 

“I will enjoy troncing you even if the swill they peddle there is a poor reward”, Fenris said as he placed his cuirass on the table. 

“Oh Hoho! I’m going to make you eat those words elf”, Anders sassed.

They left Fenris’s quarters and were walking down the stairs to the main hall. Fenris walked further down towards the foyer.When they were both in place looking at each other Anders mused, “Since you don’t care for the Hanged Man’s wine, maybe we should make it more interesting?”

“What foolish idea do you have now?”, Fenris asked.

Anders was about to suggest something which would make Isabela proud but he thought about how almost fragile the warrior had seemed before he left on the trip. No. Something to make him laugh. 

“The loser has to dance tonight, the winner picks the tune”, Anders smiled.

“You just like to make things worse for yourself. Fine”, Fenris called back tersely. “We begin on three. One. Two. Three.”

Anders focused his magic inward, felt it tingle through his muscles to enhance his strength. His heart pumped wildly, his breath raged. It had been a long time since he had experienced this rush. To have magic suffusing his body so intense was heady and distracting, but the training the Commander had put him through won out over the temptation to savor the sensations. He cast a shield of shimmer energy as he always did. 

None too soon as it was immediately slammed into by the warrier who had covered the length of the room in the blink of an eye. Uninhibited by the weight of his greatsword his movements were blurred. The increased speed of his fist pounded into the shield causing it to flicker far faster than Anders anticipated. Anders had fought side by side many times with the warrior, but being the focus of his attacks was another matter entirely. The power and control over each movement Fenris performed was startling. 

Anders had to control that speed or he knew he’d never land a hit. A paralysis spell would be perfect. It was too bad Anders was never any good at entropy magic, being as it was antithesis creation magic. There were always other means, and Anders loved to be tricky.

When the warrior lept back Anders took the opportunity to cast a grease spell over the area between them. Unfortunately this was just as Fenris charged forward. Instead of slowing the warrior’s movements Fenris slid across the floor at greater speed, crashing into Anders’ shield and breaking it. It was then that Anders’ reflexes failed. Instead of attempting to dodge he lunged down as if to block with a shield. 

_A hurlock alpha barreled towards a bloodied Velanna. Justice could feel the emptiness where her mana usually coiled around her. He cut between then to shield the drained mage from the attack_. The memoried flash before Anders in the instant before the painful impact. He was able to harness the pain and he felt his mana surge but in his disorientation he found himself pinned to the floor. Fenris lay half on him, threading a leg around Anders’ knee in such a way so that he could not move it. Anders found both his arms were pressed above his head by one of Fenris’s arms and a hand wrapped firmly around his throat, not impeding his breathing but unyielding against the movement of Anders’ apple of man (1) as he swallowed nervously. The elf grinned wickedly. He was so close Anders could see the specks of grey in the green of his eyes.

The elf whispered, “Interesting strategy Mage. It appears you will be the one to dance”. Well, at least he was amused now. That was the whole point of this exercise after all.

“We aren’t finished with this one yet though, right? Let’s see what you think of this trick,” Anders said just before setting off a Mind blast in the way he was originally taught, high chance to stun but no damage. Anders pushed the twitching elf off and slid him into the middle of the grease.

Jumping to his feet he quickly sent creation magic to bolster his strength and vitality further. 

Fenris stood up and crept towards him, mindful of the slick floor. 

“I thought you wanted to practice your hand to hand Mage.” Fenris said.

“I have to practice my set up as well or I’ll get taken out before I even get started, right?”, Anders answered. “I’m ready to go now though. Come and get the naughty mage!” Anders teased.

Instead of attacking out right, Fenris circled him before he lunged. Fists flew between them, much more of Fenris’s landed but Anders was happy he was able to get a hit after so many years out of practice. Fenris’s strikes gradually increased in strength, the elf had apparently been holding back initially, probably still was. Anders would work glyphs and shields to give himself breaks but Fenris was always ready to attack when they faded. 

It was just as a shield was fading, Fenris leapt down from on high in a powerful rush, when Anders became befuddled again. 

_Justice had fallen, a giant spider was descending from the cave roof. He tried to retreat but the leg of his body was stuck in a trap._

_“Justice”, Anders called out from across the chasm, his face wane. He dropped his weapon to his feet. Justice could sense the Mage had depleted his mana Without hesitation Anders pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced the inside of his forearm. The power thrummed in wrongness. The Mage sent a powerful bolt of lightning at the spider._

Anders gasped at the memory. Justice was a hurricane in the back of his head. Anxiety sparking like lightning. Fade Spirits should not feel anxiety.

‘What?’ Anders reached out to Justice with his mind, but Justice was not responding. All of this happened in a fraction of second as Anders watched the warrior plummet towards him. Anders felt the magic seep from his limbs and the shield flickered out of existence.

Fenris’s eyes became impossibly wide with an emotion Anders had never seen on the elf’s face. Something like fear. Anders himself felt nothing despite his vulnerability. 

It didn't matter.

He was a blood Mage. He deserved it after all.

  
Footnotes:

  1. Apple of Man = Adam’s apple - since Adam’s apple doesn’t make sense in Thedas and also it looks like even deep voiced elves do not have a noticeable one. In my head cannon the cartilage must grow broad instead. 



Fun real life linguistic note: Adam’s Apple may have been translated incorrectly from the phrase in Latin " _pomum Adami_ " (literally: 'Adam's apple'). This, in turn, came from Hebrew " _tappuach ha adam_ " meaning "apple of man". In Hebrew "Adam" (אדם) literally means "man", and the word for "apple" is similar to the word " _tafuach_ " which means "swollen", thus in combination: the swelling of a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhys and 'Comprehensive Study on Denizens of the Fade' are cannon but what I had in there is my own stuff. 
> 
> So yes. Twist! Big reveal to us and Anders. I had read Anders could be made a blood Mage in Awakening and there is not mention/resolution of it in DA II if you go that route with him so this is my take on why. You will be learning more in the next chapter. What do you think of my idea here?
> 
> I thought the whole confused reactions/memories for shared events and similar fight would explain him loosing his spells from Awakenings in general as well.
> 
> Thank you for reading ^____^


	22. Unstable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more is revealed between Justice and Anders, and Fenris helps put him back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit late. I think it's been a crazy week for everyone, yes? Thank you all for reading and commenting. This chapter has a bit of plot.

**Chapter 22: Unstable**

Anders had no memory of ever performing blood magic, of even being tempted to it, and he was naturally curious and easily tempted to many things. It was just something he would never do. At least he always thought so. No matter how blasphemous he got in his anger towards the Chantry, when nobody was looking he would still whisper his prayers and the Song in the intonation his mother had taught him. 

What was this unexpected memory from Justice? Even without his own recollection of it he could feel it was true: He  _ had  _ used blood magic. The reaction of Justice resonated between them, was a part of him. The knowledge was heavy and cold as a stone on his chest. 

The blue sky peaked through the holes in the vaulted ceiling. Anders felt the distance inverted. The ceiling was not high, he was low, as if he were at the bottom of a Deep Roads crevice or the bed of a deep lake. Yes, a lake. It was as if he were weighed down by deep, freezing water, cold and silent while the storm of Justice roared just above the surface and his heart beat fast in his ears.

The light became obscured by a figure, dark at first in the contrast. Fenris. He was speaking but Anders could not discern the words. There was pain and blood. Always blood. He closed his eyes and let himself drop into that place between sleeping and waking in order to chase Justice for answers. It seemed easier despite the Spirit’s agitation. They were less distinct than they had been a few days ago. Strange.

‘Justice, was that real?’, Anders projected. He held onto a sliver of hope even as he felt the truth in his heart.

‘Yes Anders’, Justice answered.

‘Why do I not remember?’Anders asked, feeling betrayed and at the same time an echo of shame from Justice. Justice should not feel shame.

‘We agreed to cleanse them before we joined. You chose the memories and I obscured them and the memories of our conversations from you. We did this in order to keep us safe from corruption’, Justice said adamantly.

‘You knew?’ Anders asked.

‘I obscured my memories as well, but after we joined I released them to the small part of myself still separate from you. I was not to tell you of these things. It was the feelings these memories wrought in you which made you unstable, dangerous to us,’ Justice said.

‘It is like my anger for the Templar. I am nothing but a danger to you, to us both”, Anders thought in a rush.

“No Anders. You save me. We are remade but we can still be Just and good. This pull of the song from the elf has disrupted our nature again, but our cause remains”, Justice stated.

“These memories, they are why the Tome had you upset’, Anders said.

‘Yes,’ Justice admitted.

‘What else have I forgotten?,’ Anders asked. Horrible thoughts blossomed in his mind. ‘After all my talk I really was a Malificar. What other horrible things did I do?’ He could feel himself panicking.

‘You did as the Commander required of all mages in the fight against darkspawn, one spell to fuel another in emergence. No more,’ Justice’s voice resonated. 

‘No more?’, Anders asked, feeling a tentative relief. Justice did not lie but he might not understand things.

‘No more. Why must you repeat so’, Justice groused. The familiarity of the Spirit’s grumbling was oddly calming.

‘Maker! The Commander was probably the only person who could have talked me into it’, Anders thought and he felt Justice’s agreement as a harmony between them. 

‘This is why we cleased you of these memories. Even imagining it is making us unstable’, Justice continued.

‘Justice, I need to know how it began. Show me’, Anders implored. 

‘No it could change us too much. I will not become a demon. If I let you remember I am unsure if I will be able to make you forget again. I am different from what I was. I have the memory of you speaking of it to me when I was inhabiting the body of Kristoff. I have memories of fighting alongside you in many battles,” Justice answered. 

The memories flooded Ander’s mind. He saw himself through Justice’s eyes. Having memories of the same conversation from both their perspectives was confusing, but he had become used to it. Now he felt like half was missing. 

_...He saw himself distraught, recounting how the Commander required both he and Velanna to learn at least the basics of blood magic as a precaution. At least it was from a book and no demon was involved...He saw himself slice into his hand, then heal an unconscious Sigrun…Velanna boiled the blood of their enemies while Anders used blood magic to sustain him as he sent a hand of Frost to those trying to flank them... _

Then he found himself in the quiet of his own mind once more. 

‘Velanna?’, Anders asked, shocked.

‘She embraced everything in that book’, Justice said unhappily, ‘but she also used them to fight darkspawn’. 

‘I really didn’t do anything horrible with it? Something else you are hiding?”, Anders asked.

‘No. There were only a few other memories you asked to be taken,’ Justice continued.

‘What other memories?’, Anders asked with a sinking feeling.

‘Part of your time in the Kinlock dungeons’, Justice answered.

‘Solitary’, Anders said.

‘I would not have known, mortals are so strange to me anyway, but you said it had changed you. You said the wound ran too deep you thought you could not heal. The other Wardens had similar concerns’, Justice said. 

Again Anders' mind returned to the Tome Sebastian had procured for him _ , “...Spirit Healer Clarissa de Amiot purportedly guilded a Spirit of Compassion to bind the memories of those overcome by horrors…”.  _ The thought resonated between all the parts of himself and he felt Justice’s attestation. It was chilling to know there were memories worse than those he already had locked away in his head. It was embarrassing to know the other Wardens had known he was not quite right.

‘I must go. Be at peace Justice, you did right by me’, Anders said. He felt the lingering agitation from the Spirit quiet at that. 

Anders gradually became aware of a throbbing pain in his shoulder and an ache in his head exacerbated by a rhythmic movement. His head lulled to the same movement. His first waking instinct was to run, but his mind had awoken before his body it seemed. The inability to move his limbs increased his panic and he felt suffocated. Eventually he was able to move his head.

Soft hair tickled his forehead. He opened his eyes to silvery locks and the point of an ear. Fenris was holding him, had carefully tucked his injured arm over his chest and was carrying him up the staircase to his quarters. 

With this reorientation and the ability to draw deep breaths again, Anders calmed down. Besides the pain this was nice. 

Anders could not remember being carried like this since he was a child. He felt safe in Fenris’s strong arms in a way he hadn’t since he was that little farm boy so long ago. Before Justice. Before Wardens and blood magic. Before Templars. When life was simple, love was not hidden, and he knew in his bones that he was good. It was an unexpected feeling after the recent tumultuous revelations. Tears prickled in his eyes and he buried his face against the elf to stifle himself. He felt cared for. 

***

Fenris had been furious all the way back from the Slaver’s ambush. When the Mage had come into his home with his flippant comments Fenris had been tempted to toss him right back out the door. The concern the Mage gave had stopped that impulse but as overwrought as he was Fenris could not process any other feelings, even at the prospect of assistance with his memory problem.

He had been surprised by the Mage’s offer to spar and more than a little disturbed as to the reason why the Mage no longer practiced battle magic. Still, the allure of fighting an actual person instead of breaking moldy furniture won out. He tested the Mage at first. The blond did indeed sometimes fall into inappropriate poses more suited to a warrier with a shield, but he was also resourceful and tricky. Fenris had to hide a smile after the Mage’s grease spell had gone awry. The sparring did take his mind off Hadriana and he allowed himself to increase the speed and strength of his attacks as the Mage demonstrated he could handle it. It settled something in Fenris that he could enjoy this without actually wanting to kill the Mage. He could never remember feeling like this when fighting, he felt like laughing along with the mirthful Mage.

That was until Anders froze, his magic suddenly vanished just as Fenris was descending midair with a modified mighty blow. Honeyed-tea colored eyes looked up with a despairing resignation. Fenris only had time to bend his arm so the strike was glancing with a forearm instead of direct with his fists. The Mage had still been knocked across the room. The blond did not move from where he landed. Cold dread filled Fenris as he leapt across the room to the fallen man. Those warm eyes stared up unseeing before the Mage fell unconscious, but still alive. 

Fenris assessed the Mage. The side of the Mage’s head was already starting to bruise and his shoulder looked misshapen. Without healing potions Fenris was at a loss for what to do but he decided getting the Mage off the dirty floor was at least a place to start. Mindful of the injured arm, he gathered the lanky human into his arms and carefully climbed the stairs. 

Half way up he felt the Mage stir then bury his face in the bend between Fenris’s shoulder and neck. The human’s stubble scratched the sensitive skin sending the hairs on the nap of Fenris’s neck on end. Then Fenris felt a warm wetness. The Mage was crying.  _ Kaffas _ . Fenris pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side so that his cheek rested firmly against the soft hair covering the side of the Mage’s head.

“Mage, heal yourself”, Fenris whispered into the blond’s ear.

The Mage just hiccuped for air and rubbed his face against Fenris. The tingling on the skin turned into a burn.

“Fasta vass, I’ve broken him”, Fenris said in dismay and continued up the stairs.

When he got to the bed Anders finally lifted his face.

“Anders. You hit your head. Should I lay you down or sit you up?” Fenris said slowly, hoping it would get through to the addled human.

“I-. Sit. Sit with me”, the Mage said with wild eyes. 

Fenris gently lowered the tall man to sit on the bed. The Mage was wan except for the livid bruising blossoming on the side of forehead.The blonde bit his lip as his injured arm was lowered. He was avoiding looking at a Fenris which was very irregular and made monitoring the Mage difficult. Fenris guarded himself for the discomfort of what he was going to do and caught the Mage by the chin forcing their eyes to meet. The tears were gone but his eyes were bright.

“Why have you not healed yourself?” Fenris asked, feeling the light stubble on the human’s chin. It made him more aware of the burn on his neck.

“It’s not as bad as it seems”, the Healer responded evasively.

“Do it”, Fenris said in a calm but uncompromising voice.

The mage let out a breath and lifted his sound hand. The blue glow of his magic sprang forth and as he reached for his shoulder the broken bones realigned with a sickening crack and mended. The dark red of the fresh bruising turned purple and blue, then faded to yellow-green. Fenris remained stoic as the pleasant wave of magic managed to affect him slightly despite the returned pain of his markings and the charm Anders had made him. 

The magic started to fade.

“Your head too. Fasta vass Mage, you need a minder,” Fenris said, exasperated.

Anders let out a bitter sort of laugh and said, “Many have tried and failed there”, then his face fell to a peculiar melancholy and he added, “though perhaps that is what Justice does now”.

Fenris did not like this mood in the Mage. He ran his fingers up from the human’s chin to gently trace around the perimeter of the injury on his brow. One could not be too careful with head wounds. 

“Anders…”, Fenris pushed.

“Oh fine then”, Anders relented wearily. The magic flared back and his injury faded to nothing. Fenris concentrated on his breathing, ignoring the way Anders’ magic caressed the hand Fenris still rested along the Mage’s face. 

“I’m just a bit unstable, nothing to worry about. Andraste’s toasty toes, so much fuss over a Mage. Shouldn’t seeing a mage like this be satisfying to you? ”Anders snapped. How close Anders’ was to Fenris’s fears about his violent impulses did not sit well with the warrior. He narrowed his eyes at the human.

“I like to think I am more reasonable than that. I would have hoped a  _ friend  _ might think better of me”, Fenris answered a little harshly.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair”, Anders said and he curled into himself.

This unusual meekness from the Mage was troubling and Fenris felt his irritation evaporate. He sat down beside the blond. 

“I saw those reactions you spoke of, at one point it appeared as if you were going to try to shield bash me at one point”, Fenris started.

“Good that I didn’t or I would have gone flying ass over teakettle I’m sure”, Anders said.

“What happened out there? Your defences went down and you had this look...you didn’t even try to dodge my blow”, Fenris said. ‘You looked like a slave accepting a punishment’, he thought to himself but could never say those words to the Mage.

“I had an old memory come upon me. It was very distracting”, Anders said and touched his temple, “I told you it gets a bit jumbled in here. I’ve never had one come on quite so strong though”. When the Mage returned his hand to his lap, absently fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. The man could never sit still. He did seem to like being touched. With that thought Fenris covered Anders hand lightly with his own. The Mage’s hand tensed for an instant then turned over to allow their palms to meet.

“Perhaps you may find something useful to yourself in the research you mention earlier?”, Fenris suggested. 

“I think I might have already actually”, Anders replied. There was a softening to his voice and the worry lines on his forehead were no longer so deep.

“Tell me about what you have found”, Fenris said. He was eager to hear about the Mage’s memory research as it could pertain to himself, but he also guessed that talking about something else might calm Anders. If there was one thing this human could be counted upon to do it was talk. 

As the Mage talked he relaxed more into himself.

Fenris listened, and was intrigued. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Anders, poor fellow is possessed and having an existential crisis.
> 
> This one was heavy with plot.


	23. I Do Not Deserve It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, thank you all for being patient. I've been jumbled and distracted recently. I also ended up scrapping some of what I wrote.

**Chapter 23: I Do Not Deserve It**

Anders' deep melancholy lifted somewhat as he pushed all of his focus into how he planned to help Fenris, this elf who had been wronged so much by blood magic. The potential for some sort of atonement helped to ease the guilt spiraling within him. Fenris seemed interested and the plans seemed to spring forth from Anders’ mind as he spoke. He clung to the hope of helping Fenris and began to feel more like himself again.

Even though the hand under Fenris’s shook, Anders gestured with his other hand more and more enthusiastically as he revealed the details of what he had found through his contacts with other Mages and with the new tome ‘Comprehensive Study on Denizens of the Fade’. 

The fact that the bulk of his excitement was centered around a book provided by Sebastian seemed to reassure the Elf. As was the fact that Anders had been discreet as to whom he was helping.The previously fuming warrior was now placid. Anders followed Fenris’s cool gaze down at where his hand still lightly clasped the Mage’s larger one.

“I will have to think this over. Allowing anyone such control over my very mind... it is not something to do lightly”, Fenris said, he removed his hand from Anders’.

“I understand. Think it over and let me know”, Anders said, “ I do need to study the tome, but if you would like to read it- Oh, I’m supposed to be keeping it at Hawke’s. Um, maybe don’t mention that I brought it here please?”, Anders said hopefully. Fenris winced ever so slightly, if Anders had not been watching him closely he would have missed it. 

“You should return it to Hawke’s then, I will not be reading it”, Fenris said with a slight sharpness and withdrew his hand from Anders’.

‘And I thought we were doing so well’, Anders thought bitterly.

“It’s just a book about magic, it won’t curse you. Well, there is this one story I know about a cursed book but that was probably just made up by some old Enchanters to scare Apprentices from sneaking books from the advanced section”, Anders said, trying to keep the elf from falling back into a dark mood.

“At least they taught you to read”, Fenris said shortly and clenched his jaw.

“Of course they did. The tower was practically half books,” Anders rambled then stopped with dawning realization, “Oh. You can’t read. You’ve said something like that before, about circles teaching us to read. I just never…Maker’s balls, I’m such an idiot”. He slapped a hand to his forehead and winced as the area was still a bit tender. “Ouch”.

“You’ll get no argument from me there”, Fenris replied dryingly.

Anders snorted but then smiled a bit as the elf no longer looked hard in anger.

The warrior looked away.

“They don’t teach slaves to read unless it is required for their duties. Reading was never one of my... requirements”, Fenris said as he stared ahead into the room. 

“You could still learn now you know. You’ve got a wickedly sharp mind. How many languages do you speak anyway?”, Anders asked hopefully.That earned a short laugh from the elf.

“You sound like Hawke. He’s been teaching me, but he has been so busy lately we’ve missed several lessons. I suppose with a new baby to look after he will be even busier”, Fenris said wistfully.

“Well yes, babies are a lot of work, but don’t count Hawke out yet. The man bends over backwards for his friends, right?”, Anders said then added, “I could help too if you’d like. I used to teach reading and writing in the Tower before they deemed me to be a bad influence on the apprentices. I know what it’s like to learn later. I didn’t really learn until I was 14. Most of the others were half my age when they learned. ” The memory of Karl’s patient smile as they hunched close together in a quiet corner of the library sprang to mind. It was bittersweet.

“Why were you so behind?”, Fenris asked.

“Most Mage’s get torn away from their families young, maybe between 5 or 8 years old? I was 12. Almost nobody from my village could read. There really isn’t a need for it when you are herding sheep or tilling a field,” Anders said. He tried to stifle the wistfulness from his voice but failed. With an exaggerated grin he continued, “Anyway, I’m all yours if you want more reading lessons”. 

Fenris turned to look at him then. Anders felt the warriors scritizing eyes upon him, it made his pulse quicken. Whatever it was the elf saw in Anders seemed to satisfy him, the warriors rigid posture relaxing.

“That is kind. I would welcome that”. Fenris gazed up at Anders through his white locks as he ducked his head down. The elf could be so shy for all his ferocity in battle. 

The look made Anders’ heart flutter and he smiled back at the elf, “not so very long ago you would not have thought half a second before tossing me out on my ass for the suggestion”.

“I think I have tossed your ass around enough tonight”, Fenris replied with a smirk. 

“Hmmm. Not interested in playing ‘spank the Mage today? You seemed very interested the other night” Anders said.

The corner of Fenris’s mouth turned up, “Perhaps you could add to my spoken languages as well as written. I find myself increasingly curious to learn Ander recently.”

Anders could feel his face heating and Fenris’s face broke into a grin.

“Oh? Anything in particular? Besser zu spät als nie! That is ‘Better late than never’.” Anders replied, feeling suddenly giddy. He could not help but recall the morning before Fenris had left with Hawke for Sundermount. How raw and beautiful Fenris had been as he took his pleasure. 

“Perhaps I might inspire a lesson now? I feel calm enough now that I do not fear hurting you” Fenris’s voice was as smooth as he nodded hopefully towards the head of the bed. “Though if you are too worn from earlier I understand”, he added. 

The Mage gave him a lopsided grin and said,”Warden's stamina remember? I am ready for anything elf. I’ll just get ready then, give me a few minutes. Can you go get my pack on the desk?”. He started unfastening his boots, excited. Fenris went to retrieve the pack.

Then a cold feeling started. ‘We do not deserve this’, the thought echoed in his head, not from Justice or Anders but from the blending of their being, human feelings of shame and the Spirit’s uncompromising need for atonement. Yet to help Fenris was Just. Fenris deserved to be free of pain. Fenris deserved so much.

Here is your pack”, Fenris said. Anders heard it land in the bed.

“Could you give me a moment to myself?”, Anders called out to Fenris with his eyes shut tight.

“Very well. Call when you are ready”, Fenris replied. Anders did not hear the elf leave but did hear the door to the room screech as it opened. 

‘I do not deserve it’, the thought was relentless. Anders sighed. He remembered an old trick from the Pearl, one that would keep him from enjoying himself. He hated the idea of it.

‘I do not deserve it’, the thought continued.

He dropped his smalls and pulled the leather tie from his hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are heading to an M rated chapter next. There may be added warnings. 
> 
> Fenris POV ahoy


	24. A Gleam Between the Waves of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! I want to apologize for the previous chapter 24. I really should have just taken the week off writing because I was in such a sleep deprived, depressed funk. When I read back over it after actually getting some sleep I loathed it. The writing was awful and it just didn’t fit with what I had written before or what I wanted to write soon. Sooooo, I overhauled it.
> 
> I’d like to thank Tofiam for giving me some excellent and specific constructive criticism as well as encouraging me to keep writing :) 
> 
> Comments, including constructive criticism, are always welcome. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you like the rewrite and continue reading!
> 
> ***warning for self harm and PTSD

**Chapter 24: A Gleam Between the Waves of Gold**

Something had seemed off with the Mage. Fenris pondered the Mage’s mercurial moods as he stood on the landing outside his rooms. While he waited he moved the tiger’s eye earring back and forth to watch the shifting of light in the gold and brown. Anders was more troubled than Fenris had imagined. He felt stirrings of guilt for taking out his frustrations on the man. 

When Fenris returned to his rooms those thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind at the sight that greeted him. Right now the Mage lay on his stomach propped up on his elbows, his sleeves rolled up. He wore nothing but a tunic which covered him to mid thigh. The long human legs were pale against the bed linens but for a light dusting of hair on the calves. Anders' golden mane fell wild around his shoulders and he gave Fenris a soft smile while he held the already partially knotted robes. The memory of the last time the Mage had been in his bed played in his head. It had been simple as far as sex went, but it was the most intimate experience in Fenris’s memory.

The relaxed vulnerability of the Mage, the _trust_ , made Fenris’s breath catch for a moment. It felt good to be trusted this way but also uncomfortable. It was like the time Isabela had talked him into trying on a pair of shoes last winter.

“This will be easier for my shoulder, if you don’t mind that is. It’s a bit stiff still,” the blond said as he fidgeted.

“It’s fine”, Fenris managed to get out. He dropped the ice glyph charm on the chair beside the bed. Without it the pain was worse but he didn’t want his sensitivities dulled while phasing into Anders.

“I brought something back for you from Sundermount”, Fenris He held his hand out to Mage, bearing the earring. The Mage’s eyes widened.

“Oh! It’s beautiful but you didn’t need to, I don’t deserve it”. the Mage exclaimed when Fenris placed it in his hand. The Mage turned it over examining it. His spark of the surprise dimmed quickly much to Fenris’s dismay. He worried his lip, and turned his head slightly back and forth while he looked at it.

“You gave up your last one to make that charm”, Fenris gestured towards where it lay on the chair, “I am simply replacing it”. Fenris felt his own flush started and averted his eyes from the human. He pressed on a little more gruffly from embarrassment,“Put it on. Or if you do not care for it, sell it”. 

The Mage’s eyes shot up. “No! I like it, thank you. Let me just-”, the Mage paused turning his head to fit the ring,”there. How does it look?”Fenris returned his gaze to the Mage who now had the earring dangling from an ear, light glinted from the gold and caught in the stone. 

‘The colors in the stone really do match his eyes’, Fenris thought but the only reply he could muster was a dry, “It suits you well enough”. 

“Oh. Um. Thank you”, the Mage said then looked to his hands, “Well, let’s see to your pain then. Could you secure my hand here?” Anders pointed to the bed leg and the other to the post. 

“Yes, of course,” Fenris said as he knelt beside Anders and gently secured the knots the Mage had begun. There was still a look in those gold eyes that was sad and a little unsettling.

“You are sure you are well enough for this? I have lived with the pain for years. I can handle a day”, Fenris said.

“I am fine Fenris. Really. Let’s just get on with it. Your _delicate_ Mage is ready,” Anders sassed impatiently. The teasing helped allay some of Fenris’s misgivings. The Mage must just still be a bit sore from the sparring incident.

“ _My_ delicate Mage are you?”, Fenris asked in amusement. He had just finished tightening the knot on the Mage’s wrist and trailed his fingers up the human’s arm. He smiled at the Mage’s sharp squeak of an inhale. The man’s forearms were covered in soft hair and a smattering of freckles where he had caught sun on their last trip with Hawke. 

The warrior sat on the bed beside the prone human and firmly rested his fingertips over the muscle of the Mage’s shoulder. He lent down close enough to see the shades of red in the human’s stubble.

“Is this agreeable?” Fenris whispered to the now blushing blond, pressing his fingers into the muscle of the man’s shoulder a fraction more for emphasis. 

“Yes, just stop if I tell you”, the Mage said breathlessly.

“Of course”, Fenris answered. 

The power the Mage yielded to him was both exhilarating and terrifying. Yet Fenris would not betray any of his turmoil. Instead he simply let his hand phase and sunk the fingertips into the Mage’s shoulder. 

Anders moaned, Fenris felt the vibrations of it. The pain from his arm began to recede and as it crossed the nexus of tissue at the base of his neck Fenris let out his own sigh of relief. All of the muscles connected there which had been held in prolonged tension suddenly relaxed. It gave him a rush like drinking a strong wine on an empty stomach. He felt light.

He began tracing his fingers within Anders' arm. The pain fled faster. The Mage pushed his face into the bed to stifle his now desperate little sounds.

“Halt,halt, stop!”, the Mage turned his head to the side and called out. Blue light flashed when he opened his eyes. He looked distraught.

Fenris withdrew his hand immediately. 

“What’s wrong?”, Fenris asked. He brushed back the silky hair from Anders’ face. 

“Bitte, du musst mich freigeben. Bitte Fenris. Ich habe etwas Dummes getan, aber er ist jetzt weg. Es tut mir weh. Bitte helfen Sie mir(1)”, the Mage’s voice broke into sobbing.

“Did I hurt you?”, Fenris said. The tone and the fact that the Mage had reverted to his mother tongue was troubling. With a flash of panic Fenris moved out of the bed to unbind the human’s hands. When he was finished Fenris crouched back with a hand on the Mage’s shoulder.

“What can I do?”, Fenris felt helpless as the Mage pushed himself up to his knees and tugged up his tunic.

Fenris looked in alarm at what pained the Mage. The front of his thighs and abdomen were latticed with angry welts. Burns. 

“What did you do?”, Fenris asked in a shocked hush.

Then he saw it. A cord of leather wrapped around the base of the human’s length. It was crude compared to the expensive enchanted ring Danarius had controlled his body with but Fenris felt a phantom of it coiled around him and he shivered. The Mage’s hands shook as he reached to unbind himself. 

Fenris’s mind was seized by memories of pain, pleasure, and above all the crushing shame. Years of mistrust and paranoia whispered cruel ideas of the Mage’s intent in Fenris’s mind. Was this some sort of jest about his time as a slave? Some cruelty just as he had let his guard down? Fenris heard his heart thunder in his ears and he felt cold. It felt like the draining panic of too much blood loss in battle.

“Fenhedis! What did you do?” Fenris growled the words this time as he jumped to his feet.

The leather cord dropped to the floor and the tunic fell to cover the Mage’s damage. The Mage’s eyes widened under the tangle of blond hair but struggled to focus on Fenris. Fenris took a deep, slow breath in an effort to bury his feelings, to think. 

The Mage had seemed off before and he had just taken a blow to the head. He recalled the words the Mage had said earlier about his mind: ‘ _I told you, it gets a bit jumbled in here... I’m just a bit unstable’._

‘I should not have let this happen’, Fenris admonished himself silently.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly. It was, I wasn’t myself”, the blond choked out. He sounded genuine.

The warrior counted silently as he inhaled and as he held his breath. 

Thoughts of the Mage over the last few weeks rush in his mind. This Healer worked himself to the point of exhaustion to save others, to save Fenris and wept for those he could not save. The effort he had put into helping Fenris with his pain and memory loss. Little kindnesses of bread and apples. Teaching him to cook. How gentle he could be. His unexpected forgiveness after the incident at ‘The Hanged Man’. 

Whatever else this man was he was not cruel. Except to himself it seemed. 

Fenris let out the breath he had been holding. “Heal yourself, then explain”, he said, Scooping up the charm and sitting in the chair across from the Mage.

The Mage was quiet for a moment. Then the Mage’s hand erupted in blue light. Fenris looked away but still felt the soothing touch of healing magic washed over his markings.

The Mage dropped his tunic, bent over to rest his forearms on his knees and looked at the floor. In an eerily calm voice Anders asked, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done that you could not make right?” 

The question jarred Fenris. There were so many things Fenris had done for which he could never hope for forgiveness.

However, the human continued without waiting for a response, “With Justice, well, he finds all of my offenses and pushes us to seek atonement. The memory I caught earlier, we fixated on it. It isn’t always how bad what I did was so much as how badly I _feel_ about it. I didn’t actually hurt anyone.” 

“You would claim your demon made you do it then?” Fenris asked.

“He’s not a demon”, Anders said in the familiar sharp tone he had for years. The flare of vibrancy vanished and he rested his forehead in the palms of his hands.

“But this was _atonement_?” Fenris scoffed and gestured at Anders' front. 

“Yes, I don’t know, we thought it was. I don’t now. It’s like sometimes we weigh each other down and end up drowning together”, Anders shrugged tiredly, “It’s just- You deserved to be free of pain. I did not deserve anything I find pleasant.”

“You have said you find pleasure in pain”, Fenris stated, unsure.

“Some people like that, which is fine for them. It’s just not for me”, Anders answered. 

The tall human curled in on himself like a wounded animal. It was unfortunately a state Fenris could relate to. There had been no comfort for Fenris on those days, when he had displeased Danarius. He did not like seeing the normally lively man so abject. 

Before he could overthink it he reached to grab the Mage’s face and turned his face back up. The Mage looked up at him with a look of fearful hope. The intensity of his eyes was hard for Fenris to bear but he forced himself to hold eye contact.

“You do not deserve this torment you give yourself”, Fenris said softly.

“You don’t know that,” the Mage said, transfixed.

“I know...”, Fenris said ambiguously. 

Fenris felt detached from himself, almost dream-like as he pressed his other hand over the Mage’s heart and slowly pushed him back to lay on the bed. He sat beside the man and turned the hand on the Mage’s chest palm up.

”Give me your hand”, Fenris said. 

After an instant of hesitation the Mage complied.

“Can you use that grease spell?,”Fenris asked. 

The Mage’s relaxed eyes widened but before he could respond Fenris continued, ”I do not wish to be your atonement Anders”.The Mage swallowed whatever he was going to say and Fenris felt a warm wetness pool in his hand. Fenris moved his hand down the Mage’s body, under his tunic. The heat from the human skin was intense. Caressing along the trail of soft hair with the back of his hand to his destination. The Mage squirmed but did not push Fenris away. 

“I want to touch you now, touch your here. May I?” Fenris asked, trailing along the Mage's length with his knuckles. 

“Fenris, you don’t have to. I can just-” the age began.

Fenris cut him off, “I know I don’t have to. These are my hands now, are they not? I can do with them as I wish. Now, may I touch you?”.

“Maker yes”, Anders sighed with a hitch in his voice. Fenris squeezed the Mage’s hand. 

Fenris curled his hand around the human’s now flagging length. The feel of it, hot in his hand, Fenris bit his lip trying not to remember the last time he had done this, of any of the times. He kept his eyes trained on the Mage’s face: The nose which was just a bit too large, his warm eyes, the coppery stubble, the white of his teeth as his breath came quick through his parted lips. All these things grounded Fenris to who he was with, to who he was choosing to do this with. 

He appreciated the sounds it wrenched from Anders, little needy keens. It did not take long to bring the human back to full arousal. He began canting in rhythm with Fenris. When he felt the Mage begin to come undone Fenris phased his hand fully into the Mage’s hand until his own was completely hidden within the Anders’. Anders snapped into a rigid arch. His eyes burned cold light for an instant and he cried out loudly. Spent shot as far as the wall behind the headboard and flooded hot around Fenris’s hand but the sharp scent called up no terrible memories while Fenris trained his eyes on the Mage. 

When the Mage reached his end he collapsed and slipped into unconsciousness. The warrior was now fully pain free and aroused but he ignored the throbbing between his legs easily. Fenris wiped his hand on the Mage’s already ruined tunic and slid up beside the sleeping man. Perhaps the phasing had been too much for the human. Fenris would watch over him closely.

He noticed a line of spent along the underside of the Mage’s jaw, pearly white against the copper stubble. Fenris cleaned it away but a single drop remained on Anders’ chin. An impulse came over Fenris. Quick as a flash the elf had bent his head close to the man and darted his tongue out. The rough texture of the human stubble was new and interesting, like the zing of an electric charge without the pain. The taste was not new and not particularly pleasant, but Fenris felt gratified that he was able to experience this much without falling into nightmares. 

Fenris settled in sitting against the headboard and pulled the Mage’s into his lap. He carded through the tangles of the Mage’s mane as he slumbered. The tiger’s eye was a gleam between the waves of gold. As his heartbeat calmed, Fenris felt a cold uncertainty set in. The Mage had been addled, unsound. Despite how the human had agreed, Fenris feared he had once again done something wicked. He was still disturbed by the Mage's actions, but the elf always had room to ruminate on his own innumerable faults.

Footnotes:

(again, I’m not a German speaker)

  1. (German as Ander) Please, you have to release me. Please Fenris. I did something foolish, but he is gone now. It hurts me. Please help me.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was a bit better. I hope you did as well. Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm feeling more confident about the next few chapters. 
> 
> Anders POV next...


	25. The Mending Gives Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is ansty there is always work to do in the Clinic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split what I was going to post together because the tones are different.

**Chapter 25: The Mending Gives Character**

Anders had awoken to Fenris’s fingers gently carding through his hair. In that first hazy moment all he felt was affection and a delight in the experience of waking up with Fenris. It was never something he was able to do with Karl and even when he was having his fun outside of the Circle before joining with Justice, Anders never felt  _ this _ .

His delight fell to embarrassment as the elf pulled away when Anders attempted to return the gentle touches. The rejection stung more than it should. Then the memories came crashing back. Anders fled to the bathing chamber to calm himself. The stones of the floor held a chill even in the heat of summer and Anders felt more alone than he had in years.

Justice slumbered silently. Anders burned with wild emotions. With Justice once again pulled away and oblivious to all but that otherworldly song Anders was no longer in a self-flagellating spiral but his emotions were still more potent and mercurial without the Spirit. Discovering that he had asked Justice to lock away memories was concerning. That he had practiced blood magic was galling. What had come after…

He had hurt himself, and not in a fun way. Oh, he had indulged others who very much enjoyed burns and that type of binding, but those things were always a hard no as far as Anders himself went.

He hadn’t been able to control it though. The pull of the Spirit’s purpose to atone-  _ to punish, _ was too strong. He couldn’t be sure if they had been this out of control from the beginning and he just had no way to notice or if this new instability had come about as their beings gradually reintegrated. His instincts leant to the later.

Their joining was more dangerous for them both than he had though. Despite how vehemently he rallied against anyone who called Justice a demon, he had always secretly been fearful of turning his friend into one. He knew he had already corrupted Justice to a degree with his anger but at least that seemed to have a noble focus in the injustices done to Mages. 

This thing they had been doing with Fenris had deeper implications than Anders had realized. Now though, thinking apart from the Spirit, Anders believed stopping could be more risky. That put him in the uncomfortable position of being reliant on someone. No matter how he was coming to appreciate Fenris, needing anyone was dangerous. 

Yet, for all the risk, he ached to feel those powerful hands gently play with his hair, to see his normally sullen face light with amusement.

When Anders had collected himself and reemerged the warrior was fully dressed in his armor, beautiful and foreboding. His green eyes were narrowed as he studied the flames. Anders surmised he was either back to dwelling on the pending battle with his former Master’s assistant... or perhaps regretting what had just happened. Had Anders scared him off? 

The last thought sent a spike of panic through Anders. 

Wanting was almost as dangerous as needing without Justic’s influence. Anders wanted. Anders wanted so many things. What made his heart pound right now was the simple desire to be near the surly elf. Impulsively, he invited Fenris to assist in the Clinic and the elf had actually accepted.

Beyond desire was a fragile feeling which Anders tried not to think about too closely. It never ended well.

***

The walk to Darktown was uncomfortable. Fenris was more stony than usual. Anders filled the elf’s silence with his own increasingly animated chatter. He tried to lighten the mood with stories of the goings on of the city while Fenris and the other had been off on Sundermount. He ended up talking mostly about Hawke’s new daughter. That topic seemed to be the only one which cracked the warrior’s stoic facade...minutely.

The warrior’s posture had become even more hunched than normal and he could not seem to relax, constantly looking over his shoulder. He was as guarded as an angry tom cat. Rationally Anders knew this was probably because the elf had been jumped by slaver’s just this morning, but whenever the elf’s vigilant look would flick to him it felt like a slap. It seemed now the elf was wary of Anders as before, maybe moreso. It hurt more than expected to think what had happened this afternoon had damaged whatever had been growing between them.

Although, if that were the case why was he coming to help in the Clinic? Why in Thedas would Fenris have touched him like that at the end? Just thinking about the feel of the warrior’s strong hand and the intensity of those green eyes had Anders bite his lip. At least he could blame the flush on the heat as they made their way to the nearest lift to the Undercity.

As they stood in the lift together Fenris broke his silence.

“Is that the bag of ruined clothing Hawke hauled down Sundermount?”, the elf asked with a note of confusion and obvious distaste. 

It made Anders laugh unexpectedly and he answered, “Oh yes. Hawke always finds them and donates them to the Clinic”.

“Like the bread. You and Hawke make quite the team”, Fenris said quietly, still hunched over and glancing up at Anders. Shadows and light from the openings in the lift tunnel moved across his face as they descended.

“It’s not fun work, but it’s work worth doing. Welcome to team feed and clothe the poor”, Anders said with a grin, hopeful at the bit of actual conversation. “Cloth is expensive, you know. Just because something is damaged doesn’t mean it has no worth. So I wash it up then give it to Lirene and her people to mend and pass out to the poor. I think some of the ones Lirene mends probably end up looking better than new because of her needlework. She has this way of mending where she doesn’t even try to hide the stitches (1). Look.“Anders paused to pull back his coat and display a pair of trousers which had not been banished to the rag pile like most of his clothes recently had been. The dark green linen made the white of the stitches stand out, a pattern of stars covered a patch over the knee. “The mending gives character.”

Fenris gave it a contemplative look, “It is fine work”. Fenris looked back at his feet and the lift lurched to a halt. The lift to the mood halted with it.

‘If only I could mend this as easily’, Anders thought.

***

The Clinic was not as crowded as it had been earlier in the week and none of his patients had been in dire circumstance this afternoon.The worst that he had seen today was a miner with an infected tooth but it was a lower one and had not been far enough along to become life threatening yet. 

The lull in the number of patients did not mean the Healer hadn’t been busy. He used the time to brew the much needed potions from the herbs Hawke and the other companions had gathered on their trip to Sundermount as well as to wash the bag of worn and sometimes mildewed clothes Hawke had donated.

Anders was glad to be busy and flitted between patients and mundane tasks. It kept him from dwelling on things like veiled memories, blood magic, and trying to figure out exactly what was going on in Fenris’s head. Without the Spirit’s focus Anders’ mind flitted between the tasks and musings. He had recalled Wynne scolding him for being too ‘flighty’. Yes. It felt like his mind was flying like it once did.

Anders decided to begin the reading lessons by labeling some of the herbs Fenris was working with. That had gotten an adorable look of surprise. The faintest curl of a smile from the elf was like a warm coal in winter to Anders, but it was a brief moment of thaw in the elf’s cool veneer.

Throughout the slow, mundane work Fenris had remained aloof. He spoke minimally and would not meet Anders eyes. Yet when Anders wasn’t looking he would sometimes feel a prickling on the back of his neck like someone was watching him. It was annoyingly reminiscent of the constant guardian of Circle life. When he would turn around the elf would be concentrating on whatever work he was doing just a bit too hard. 

It was maker-blasted irritating. 

As the few slants of light from the street above grew yellow with the fading light Anders went to snuff out the lanterns. Even Tom-wise was shuffling off for supper now, he nodded as he passed by Anders. The Healer paused for a moment outside of the clinic doors, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stood in thought. 

Anders felt all of the day’s anxiety and irritation swell in the sudden stillness. The blasted elf was so confusing! Why couldn’t Fenris just yell at him like he normally did if he was angry? That at least Anders could deal with.

Was it anger the elf was feeling? Perhaps he was afraid of Anders now. The way the elf hoovered silently was maddening. Perhaps he was playing Templar now, guardian the world from the unstable mage. Anders felt the same knot in his stomach as he had when he looked in his father’s eyes as the Templars hauled him away. 

He just wished he knew what the elf was thinking.

He shoved that memory away as he returned to the Clinic proper and bolted the doors behind him.The boiling pots and wet hanging cloths added humidity to the room. This combined with the heat of summer made the room altogether stifling despite the high ceiling. With the doors shut it was quiet. The only sounds were the bubbling of a potion over the fire and a grinding of a mortar and pestle. Fenris. 

Anders took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and walked through between the curtains of wet clothes towards the back room where they had been preparing potions. The large batch of health potion over the fire was done and he pulled it away to cool.

“Thanks for helping. Between you, me and Hawke we’ve managed to get things back in order a lot sooner than I would have thought”, Anders said, walking over to the small area near the larder where he prepared his meals.

“I find it agreeable, doing something to help the survivors, something that doesn’t involve bloodshed for a change”, Fenris said as he scooped the elfroot paste into a small jar.

“You know, you can continue to learn things that don’t involve a sword, like reading and writing. If you like I can keep showing you herbalism as well. It’s a lot like cooking actually”, Anders said.

“Hmm”, was all Fenris responded with.

Anders sighed in frustration.

“Well, you really did a lot of good today. The rest can wait.” Anders said, pushing cheer into his voice. He wrapped two hand pies from the larder in cloth and grabbed a skin of water with which he filled two tankards. Anders casted an ice spell on them until the metal was frosted and sided up to the warrior. The elf in a more rigid posture than when he passed before.

“Oh, erm. Sorry about that”, he winced and placed a tankard next to the elf on the table and laid out the pies beside it. 

He had been trying to at least alert the elf to his spellwork now that he knew how magic affected him, but he also halfway hoped it would bring some reaction from the elf. Even cursing would be better than this coldness.

“I’ve felt worse Mage”, the warrior said coolly and put down the tools to sip from the tankard.

Anders sighed, disappointed and frustrated at himself for the irrationality of it. He threw back the tankard and gulped his water down, enjoying the cold feeling spreading through him even as his mind whirled.

He slammed the tankard back on the table. He was not a patient man and he couldn’t take anymore of this uncertainty.

“I’m going to change before I head out to ‘the Hanged Man’, “he said, holding out his sodden and stained shirt. “Go on ahead without me while there is still light,” Anders said and stomped off to his room. He closed his makeshift bedroom door and let his head thump back against it.

‘Running away, like always. Maker-damned coward’, Anders silently berated himself. 

Notes:

1\. I imagine Lirene using Sashiko mending technique

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is card night! I was going to post it together but it felt better for the flow apart. That means the next chapter will be coming sooner as it's already more than 1/2 written.


	26. I Think I’ve Already Used Up All My Luck Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another weekly card night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I play with so many characters here! I hope I do them right.
> 
> mainly Fenris POV
> 
> Angst, slice of life, and fluffy fluff fluff 
> 
> warnings: alcohol consumption

**Chapter 26: I Think I’ve Already Used Up All My Luck Tonight**

“You’re shitting me Rivaini”, Varric said, his brown eyes peeking at her from above the glasses sliding down his nose. 

“Oh no Varric. It really was that bad”, Isabela sighed as she pushed with her boots on the table to tilt her chair back. She balanced precariously on its hind-legs and threw back a shot of rum.

“Shit, that almost makes the aggravations I’ve been having here look good”, Varric replied.

“I could almost agree with that”, Aveline added tiredly and looked into her mug of ale.

“Yes, definitely glad to be back big girl”, Isabela said as she tilted forward again and shook out her still damp hair. 

Varric rested his chin on one fist while he twirled his quill in the other hand and asked,“do you think either of them will show tonight?”

“I doubt Kitten will. I’ve never seen her like that. Fenris,” Isabela shrugged, “I would have thought so but he’s usually one of the first ones here”. 

“I will check in on him on my way back to the Chantry tonight”, Sebastian said with a small frown.

“How is Hawke handling all of this?” Aveline asked. The normal sternness to her voice was absent as she questioned Isabela.

“About as well as you would expect I’m sure. Love really does make a mess of things”, Isabela said in distaste, “Better to keep it simple, less tears that way. Stick with just sex, _lots_ of sex. Tears - maybe for them but only if they want that sort of thing. I knew this elf once, an Antivan Crow actually, he liked the most delightfully sinful things”. Isabela grinned across the table wolfishly at the Guard Captain.

“Slattern,” the red head replied with an angry pink tinge to her freckles cheeks.

Sebastian, who was sitting beside the Pirate, studied his small ale(1) intently with a blush much to Isabela’s delight.

“Sebastian, if you go see Fenris let me know if he has a guest. I have a feeling our little elf may be finally getting the other sort of action for a change”, Isabela grinned. Sebastian’s face contorted in such a way that made the pirate laugh.

“Oh? Spill it Riviani. I want to hear  _ something  _ pleasant today”, Varric said. 

The brother quickly replied,“That would be his business, ask him yourself”, then he turned to the Guard Captain, “ I’m afraid that regarding Hawke’s reaction Isabela is correct. I was at his estate when he returned. He does have some good news as well but I should let him tell you”.

The whole table perked up, ready to try and pry some gossip from the Chantry Brother but just at that instant all the patrons of ‘The Hanged Man’ erupted in a simultaneous shout of “Hawke!” with raised drinks.

“Speak his name...”, Varric said.

The swarthy rogue swaggered in as he usually did and with a smirk called out to the bartender, ”Corff, send a round to our table on me!”

As he approached the table and, when he eyed Merrill’s empty seat, his cocky grin dropped for a second, but only a second.

“You lot managed to keep the City together while I was gone I see”, he laughed and instead took a seat beside Aveline.

“Hawke, good to see you back in one piece”, Varric said.

“Barely,” Isabela added. Then jumped a bit when someone kicked her under the table, “Ouch! Hey!” 

“So the Choir boy said you had some good news? I think we could all use some”, Varric prompted.

Hawke beamed, “I’m a papa!”

***

Fenris stalked his way to ‘The Hanged Man’ in the fading light of day. The orange sky was mottled with clouds dark as bruises. The streets were busy with normal people shuffling home from work and less savory people heading out to work under the cover of night. 

Between the heightened alertness for bounty hunters, the possibility of restoring his memories, the Mage’s disturbing behavior this afternoon, and trying to figure out what the Mage was thinking after...Fenris felt like a painful band had been wrapped around his head. 

As a matter of survival as a slave to a particularly cruel master Fenris had learned to read emotions. However, he found that interpreting the meaning among the Southerners could be very difficult. The Mage, who was usually anything but subtle, had been impossible to decipher since he had regained consciousness this afternoon. It was the dizzying extremes he showed which muddled things. He rambled more than usual but never brought up this afternoon. He joked one moment then was suddenly bristling. His voice was soft and kind as he worked a reading lesson into the potion preparation but then hurried away with a nervous look. 

Fenris saw fear in the Mage. 

It confirmed to Fenris that he had once again wronged the human, had gone too far. The knowledge, heavy as an iron chain, weighed on him as he walked. He was laden with many such weights. Perhaps he might yet be able to make things right- if he could just figure out how.

Fenris entered “The Hanged Man’ and a cacophony greeted him. It made his mage induced headache throb just over his eyebrow. 

Everyone at the table appeared to be in good spirits at any rate. Except for Isabela, who looked oddly uncomfortable, like that time she had disappeared outside the Qunari compound. As he approached the table Hawke caught sight of him. The rogue’s hearty laugh turned into a thoughtful smile.

“Glad you made it Fenris”, Hawke said.

Fenris found himself returning the smile as he took the empty bench to the right of the dwarf.

“I’d never miss it”, he replied and felt the anger from this morning fade. Hawke had been right not to go after Hadriana with them bleeding and broken as they had been. The rogue had helped him before, he had to trust his friend to do so again.

“Broody, we actually got some good news for a change”, Varric said.

“I have heard. Congratulations Hawke. I am glad for you both”, Fenris answered.

“What are you going to call her?”, Aveline asked. She looked tired, but her face had taken on a rare softness. It reminded Fenris of the blond elven woman who was baking bread in his lingering dream. 

“I’ve decided on Leandra. I think mother would have liked that,” Hawke answered. At the mention of Leandra the table became quiet.

“Yes, Well, happy for you Hawke. Now, how about you start dealing some cards, Varric?”, Isabela said as she balanced a dagger on her finger at the hilt.

After a bit of shuffling a game was underway. They let him keep to himself more than usual tonight. With his headache that was probably best. The cheer from the table was pleasant and he enjoyed just being near his friends. Fenris let himself relax a bit as he curled over his cards. 

In the middle of their second hand Anders strolled into the Tavern. He wore the same fitted clothes under his coat as he had on the last card night and his hair gleamed in the firelight. The Mage stopped by the bar to chat with Corff while he waited for drinks. He threw back a shot of something with a wince and laughed with the barkeep. Fenris’s eyes narrowed as it was apparent he was not the only one appreciating the Mage. Before anyone could approach the blonde, he was making off with his drinks towards the group’s table.

“How’s fatherhood treating you so far Hawke?”, Anders asked. 

“Wonderful, can’t stay out too late now though. Bodahn is watching her for now,” Hawke smiled.

“Did you pick a name yet?” Anders asked. 

“Leandra. Bodahn said you were calling her something already though?” Hawke asked.

“Oh!” Anders laughed, “Schätzchen(2)! It’s just something to call cute little babies, not a name”. 

Fenris was not the only one surprised when the Mage chose the seat next to Fenris instead of the open one by Varric. At this distance Fenris noted the scent like incense the human had taken to wearing seemed stronger than before, but perhaps that was only because it was so pleasant compared to the offensive odors permeating the Tavern. The mage slid a cup in front of Fenris. Wine, such as it was at the Hanged Man.

“A bet’s a bet elf. Let me know when for the other thing”, Anders said with a smirk. 

It made Fenris’s mouth feel suddenly dry so he expressed himself with a slight nod and a “Hmm’. before taking the cup and drinking. The wine was watered and bitter at the end but the Mage’s smile in reaction was sweet.

“Bet?”, Varric asked.

“Oh, just a little wager I lost fair and square. Speaking of gambling, deal me in for the next hand”, Anders replied then turned to the pirate, “I bet you are ready for some fun tonight, huh?”

“You have no idea sweetheart”, Isabela answered dramatically then with a narrowing of her eyes added, “Another new earring Anders? It looks nice on you”.

“Ah yes, thank you”, the Mage said with a small laugh. He reached back to unfasten his staff and rested it against the wall behind them before settling in to collect the cards Varric was dealing.

The Pirate fanned her cards in front of her face and the group continued to play. Fenris noticed she shrewdly cast her eye between Hawke and the Mage from time to time throughout the games, though her playing did not suffer for her distraction. It was odd. Fenris could not make sense of it. Then again the Pirate was fond of all kinds of nonsense so the warrior turned his thoughts back to his own troubles.

As the night went on the tavern became louder with rowdy patrons and a lively minstrel. Fenris' head pulsed all the harder for it. Between games the Mage and the Pirate started dancing to a lively Rivaini tune. The Mage laughed as he referred to his dance as ‘Anders Spicy Shimmy”. The feathers of his patrons accentuated the broadness of his shoulders as he shook them back and forth. No matter the sultry intent of the moves, there was a kind of innocence to the dance, like a child running for the joy of it. The Mage’s face as he laughed held a strange captivation for Fenris and he found himself casting furtive glances at the Mage. His face was flush from the heat and the dancing. When he was finished he sat down hard on their shared bench and Aveline dealt another round of cards.

“You are even more quiet here than at the Clinic”, the Mage whispered to Fenris while Sebastian was mulling over whether to stay in the round or not. 

“I am in more pain now”, Fenris said. The old pain from his markings had returned to his feet but the worst of it was his head as it throbbed with the sounds of the Tavern.

“Already?” The Mage sounded surprised but turned to study his cards with an air of casual preoccupation. 

Then Fenris felt the Mage’s thigh press intently against the side of his own.

Fenris froze. 

‘The Mage couldn’t mean to...’ Fenris thought.

“Go ahead then”, the Mage whispered without looking away from his cards, knocking his leg against Fenris’s to make his point clear. 

Apparently that was exactly what the Mage was offering. After how erratic Anders had been today Fenris did not know what to make of this invitation, this very public invitation which reminded him of  _ that  _ night. He remained fixed in position while his mind raced. After a moment the Mage pulled his thigh away.

“It appears Anders has a hand so terrible he’s taken personal offense”, Sebastian ribbed from across the table. 

“Hey, stare at those cards any harder and they might burst into flames Blondie”, Varric added with a laugh. When Fenris glanced sideways at the Mage he had on that pinched look he had worn on and off in the Clinic earlier. The man was quick to cover it with a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time, I’ve never really gotten the knack with fire. Though I think I like this hand just fine thanks'', Anders said and with a challenging wink he slid a coin to the center of the table and turned his cards down on the table. He folded his hands over them and seemingly observed the table but his posture was stiff.

‘The Mage is upset?’ Fenris pondered.

“Broody, you in?”, Varric asked.

“Hmm, yes”, Fenris said and tossed a silver into the pot. Instead of returning his hand to the table he rested it on the bench. Tentatively his reach over and rested it just above the Mage’s knee. Fenris could feel the stitches the Mage had shown him earlier, they made the cloth pucker slightly giving the surface a rippled texture.

‘ _ The mending gives character _ ’, the Mage’s words had stuck with Fenris like one of Sebastian’s verses. He had wondered if someone as damaged as himself could ever truly be mended. He stroked his fingers over the Mage’s patch-clad leg tentatively as he contemplated.

The Mage’s thigh initially tensed but then he relaxed his leg out again. The Mage returned his attention to the game, albeit with a small smile which crinkled the small lines in the corners of his eyes. Fenris let his hand remain and they played a game like that. With their backs to the wall and the table in front of them they were inconspicuous. 

It was strange, how the small touch meant to calm the Mage seemed to have the same effect on Fenris himself. His headache lightened somewhat. It was also gratifying to see the Mage’s flush from dancing deeped and his tendency to catch his lip with his teeth. Yet the uncertainty as to Anders’ motivations made him hesitant to phase. Instead he stroked along the inseam just above the knee of the man’s trousers with his fingers. Being so close he was able to notice the pinkening of the round curve of the human’s ear. Though Anders betrayed nothing.

After Aveline raked in the pot for the hand Fenris leant close to the man at his side under the sound of the table’s joviality.

“Mage, I would speak with you a moment. Privately”, Fenris whispered. 

The Mage tensed a moment then smirked. Then he downed the rest of his ale. When he finished he let out a belch and laughed more befitting a mischievous youth tasting strong drink for the first time.

“Whoa Anders, what’s gotten into you?”, Hawke asked with amusement.

“The old stick in the mud is learning to live a little”, Isabela cheered and raised her own glass to Anders. 

“Happy to have Anders out to play more, no offense Justice”, Varric said.

Fenris noticed Sebastian, who was seated beside the Pirate and directly across from Anders, seemed uneasy at the Mage’s unusual display. 

“I’m happy to play but go ahead with the next hand. I’m going to go drain the dragon and get a refill,” Anders said and rose from his seat with an exaggerated stretch before he strolled out the door.

“I know everyone is amused by Anders' disposition this evening, but some people find more trouble than they bargain for at the bottom of the bottle. I would not encourage him”, Sebastian said with the august manner he took on sometimes in his role as a Brother.

“Maybe he’s looking for a bit of trouble. He did so enough before the stick in the mud showed up”, Isabela grinned suggestively.

“Well perhaps with ‘the stick in the mud’ as you call it, drinking may not be the safest choice for him’, Sebastian said. His icy eyes glared at the Pirate by his side.

“It’s a fair point”, Aveline added.

“Let people make their own choices,” Isabela shot back, levity gone.

“Alright you two, there can be a healthy medium for drinking. Let’s just enjoy that he seems happier lately,” Varric said.

“ ‘Wait and see’ is a plan I can get behind Varric”, Hawke said, lifting his mug.

After a few moments Fenris was just about to stand when Isabela sauntered over to Hawke and sat down on the table between him and Aveline. She crossed her legs in the practiced way which covered her nethers but hiked her shirt up to display her dark, curvy thighs. 

“Since we are all concerned about Anders now...Hawke, you know I’m all for finding a good time but don’t play with Anders right now. Not unless you mean it this time. We all know how stupid he was for you”, she said with that dangerous pleasantness Fenris remembered from last week.

“What?”, Hawke stared at her in bewilderment. As all eyes on the table turned to him his evident confusion only grew, “What you are talking about?”

“Oh come on sweetheart, you gave him that earring from your lot at Sundermount. He was playing coy when I tried to bring it up but that man is an open book”, Isabela studied the other rogue.

Hawke’s face contorted in confusion and he looked about the table as if searching for an answer. Fenris held his breath as Hawke’s eyes met his for an instant. Fenris watched as his mental floundering turned to understanding and the rogue turned back to the pirate. 

“It’s not like that. It was just a thank you for taking care of Leandra”, Hawke replied with renewed calm.

“Maybe make sure  _ he  _ knows Hawke”, Varric added. At that everyone at the table gave a small sign of agreement. 

“Right. We sorted it pretty clearly after Merrill and I… last year. Just drop it. Let’s play another hand. I’ll need to get home soon”, Hawke said briskly.

Fenris stood up. He had been so focused on Hawke he was unsure if anyone had noticed the wordless exchange.

“Where are you going?”, Hawke asked with narrowed eyes.

“The privy”, Fenris said and walked away without another word.

***

When Fenris stepped outside the steam from the evening rain hitting the still sun heated stones of the street hit him. The humidity was not as uncomfortable in the night and with the salty sea breeze. A light mist of falling water cooled his hot face. He could feel the weight of the water increase in his hair, a strand pressed against his forehead. 

“Over here”, the Mage’s voice called from an alley.

His face was half shadow in the flickering light of the sputtering street torch. The kohl around his eyes made them at first seem to glow in the firelight, like some sort of predatory night beast. It set Fenris’s sense of danger on edge but that was belaid by the Mage’s lopsided grin. He disappeared into the alley and Fenris followed him. It was quieter here, the sounds of the Tavern muffled. Their only company was empty barrels and crates.

The Mage turned around, his mirthful grin remained but those warm eyes were calculating.

“You better get to it then”, the Mage said, laying his staff on a barrel and leaning himself against the wall. The white of his teeth glinted in the shadows.

“Get to it?”Fenris asked.

“You didn’t want to do it at the table which is cute but here we are, alone. Go ahead, touch me. I’m your personal pain relief potion, right?,” the Mage said and chuckled.

Fenris reached for the sides of Anders’ face and pulled the tall man down. The whites of his eyes were large and round in that strange way of surprised humans. The Mage gaped at him. Fenris recalled the Mage’s voice ‘ _ lass mich dich küssen _ ’. He had been asking for a kiss in his ative tongue. His lips looked soft and tempting. 

His breath smelled of ale and whisky.

“You are drunk Mage,” Fenris said, cooled by the thought. The Mage blink at him owlishly before pulling back in consternation.

“I am not!” the human scoffed, trying to cover up how he nearly tumbled into the crate as he pulled away. “I could drink  _ you  _ under the table at any rate”. 

“Doubtful, but possibly amusing to watch you try. Another night perhaps. I wanted to speak with you,”Fenris said. 

“Speak then”, Anders said as he gestured impatiently between them.

Now that he had the opportunity to speak, Fenris found he had trouble finding the words.

Before Fenris could actually speak the Mage started, “Look, I’m sorry if I upset you this afternoon. I’m not always a gentle man. You’ve seen what’s inside of me, more than most people have. I was out of sorts. I-, I understand if you are having second thoughts about all this. Maker knows you’ve made your opinions about mages clear before and I’m just a bit more complicated than the average mage. Just-, if you want to yell at me do it. If you don’t want to touch me anymore, tell me. I can’t stand the waiting. I-”

The Mage stopped his rambling when Fenris lay his hand on a feather shoulder.

“I want to touch you, more than I should. I did not hurt you again today? As you said, you were addled. I might have crossed a line,” Fenris said.

“Andraste’s flaming panties,  _ that’s _ why you’ve been so sullen?”, the Mage exclaimed. “I thought I had finally scared you off”. 

“You have been acting strangely even by your standards”, Fenris retorted.

“Yes. Well, now that we’ve established that I am strange and you want to touch me anyway can we maybe touch a little?”, Anders said, crossing his arm across his chest to envelop Fenris’s hand where it still lay nestled in the feathered patrons. Now that Fenris’s eyes had adjusted to the dark he saw the Mage’s eyes held a shy warmth. A flush colored his checks and long nose.

He could not think of what to say. Fenris rarely acted on impulse, but he remembered the calm he had felt when Anders had kissed his cheek in the mansion’s kitchen- Fenris’s first kiss as a free elf. That was what he wanted Anders to feel, so with his free hand he held the tall man’s head and, raising up on his bare toes, he pressed a quick kiss to the Mage’s warm lips. They felt soft against the bristle of his stubble.

When he pulled back the Mage looked dazed before he broke into a bright grin. It was charming in its openness.

“Perhaps when you are not drunk”, Fenris said, smiling back.

“I’m  _ not  _ drunk”, the age whined and screwed up his face in aggravation, “but I’ll switch back to small ale if it will make you a happy elf”.

“It will”, Fenris answered, amused by the petulant display.

“You said you were in pain...will you touch me under the table if I behave. I can be quiet”, the Mage went from concerned to impish as he spoke.

“It’s not that. My head has been hurting”, Fenris sighed.

“When did it start?”, Anders said, slipping into his Healer’s manner.

“On the walk to Darktown”, Fenris answered.

“You’ve been with a healer most of the day and you are just telling me now?” the blonde said, raising both his eyebrows in disbelief.

“It became severe as ‘‘The Hanged Man’ became louder.”, Fenris shrugged.

“It’s your horrible posture, like I said before. I would like to work on your muscles later. For now can I just-?”, Anders held his free hand out and wiggled his fingers.

“Is that wise here?”, Fenris asked.

“Come closer,” Anders answered, turning to face the dead end of the alley. The movement pulled Fenris against the wall. The Mage wrapped his hand around the base of Fenris’s neck. 

“Green or blue?” Anders asked in a whisper as his fingers played with the hairs at the nap of Fenris’s neck. It sent a shiver down his spine.

‘ _ Take what is freely given to you _ ’

“Blue”, Fenris answered. The pain wilted and that strange pleasure blossomed from where the Mage rested his hand. It hummed along his markings while Fenris held his breath. Then it too was gone, leaving the Mage’s warm hand still sending a tingle down his spine.

“Better?” the Mage asked softly.

“Yes,” Fenris said. His voice felt thick on his tongue, the feathers under his hand were soft, and the Mage smelled so good. 

“Will you come home with me tonight? I worry it’s not safe to walk the Hightown streets at night with that Magister so close. They are bound to know where you live”, Anders said. 

Something swelled in Fenris at the concern and he could only look up at this strange, beautiful human. The Mage must have taken his silence for reluctance as his face dropped.

“If you aren’t comfortable with that, get a room here for the night. Just be careful I-”, Anders started.

“No, I will go with you”, Fenris said. , looked down and felt foolish.

“Good”, the Mage responded. Fenris felt a hot press of lips to his forehead. Then the looming presence of the Mage moved. The Mage’s large hand which had been over the one Fenris had rested on the palrons now held that hand between them as he gently pulled him towards the entrance to the alley. 

“We better get back. I probably won’t win. I think I’ve already used up all my luck tonight”, Anders said with a grin.

“We shall see”, Fenris answered as he allowed himself to be pulled to the entrance of the alley before retracting his hand. The Mage fairly skipped into the Tavern and Fenris heart skipped along with him.  


Footnotes:

  1. Small beer or small ale was a beverage people started drinking in the middle ages which has a very low alcohol content, similar to levels in kombucha, and was often drunk in lou of questionable water or for increased caloric intake. I would imagine Sebastian and Anders would both normally drink this instead of stronger alcoholic beverages. 
  2. Schätzchen - a term of endearment meaning treasure or sweetheart



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I have not played the game with Sebastian but it seems to me from what I’ve watched and read that he is a recovering alcoholic and uses his faith to stay sober. I imagine him being concerned for others about this. I imagine some of the proselytizing he does to Fenris is related. 
> 
> I really like writing the group scenes but they are challenging. I hope I keep everyone in character.
> 
> After all the heavy angst lately I hope you enjoyed the fluff! I think the title sounded ominous but I hope you like that twist at the end ;)
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for leaving comments kudos they make me ^___^ and write more


	27. An Unwelcome Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cards wind down with an unexpected guest or two. 
> 
> Fenris POV 
> 
> group banter, action, dash of fluff
> 
> warning for violence and canon typical gore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You comments and kudos make me smile so much ^__^

**Chapter 27: An Unwelcome Surprise**   


The Mage eventually calmed. When he was not sipping on a mug of small ale he had taken to resting his head on his folded arms across the table as he watched the other companions play. His eyelids looked heavy but he hummed contentedly. Fenris felt something in himself resonant with the blithe human. He was cautious not to overtly engage with the blond overmuch, even so he felt the appraising eye of Hawke more than once as they played.

As the night progressed Hawke had confirmed that Anders and Fenris would be able to accompany him to the Alienage tomorrow in order to save that young elf-blooded apostate. Fenris The thought of venturing into the fade was repulsive, but he could not refuse to help his friend. Hawke had even talked Isabela into not playing too hard tonight in case Merrill refused tomorrow. Fenris frowned but bit his tongue at her glee at the notion of ‘frolicking through dreams’.

After three more rounds of cards the evening wrapped up. Hawke wanted to return home early, eager to see his new daughter. Anders peppered him with advice before he left. Aveline begged off at the same time on account of her early duties as Guard Captain. With one last questioning look to Fenris which promised a conversation later, Hawke made off for Hightown accompanied by Sebastian, who in turn cast a worried glance at the oblivious Mage before leaving. 

“Who wants to play some diamondback?”, Isabela asked with entirely too much enthusiasm.

“I should retire. I am still weary from the trip to Sundermount”, Fenris said, feeling the weight of this uncommonly long day.

“Sweetheart don’t I know it. The first thing I did when I got back was bathe, then sleep in my own bed, then bathe again. I’m all turned around and feel like I’ll be up all night now. I need a fight or fuck. I guess I’ll pay a quick trip to the Rose, one or the other is bound to happen. Both if I’m really lucky”. The Pirate said.

The Mage snorted in amusement.

“Oh hush you. I’m still disappointed you're not back in business. The Rose’s idea of ‘something special’ leaves a lot to be desired. Unless you are Sebastian I suppose”, she said and wrinkled her nose.

“Ick”, Anders said, making a simular face.

“You didn’t hear Riavani? Blondie had a run in there with Templars. He left three of them out cold”, Varric said.

“Believe me they had it coming,” the Mage said before yawning into the back of his wrist then nestled himself into his arms again, “Lusine wasn’t pleased with the commotion, but her ire was not on me. Those particular Templars are banned from ‘The Rose’.”

“You’ve got to be more careful. Stay out of the parlors if you are trying to keep a low profile. I’d thought you were better at this”, Varric admonished.

“Yes, yes, Varric. I’ll be a good little Anders. I made it out alright this time though, jumped right out the window. I even had help, just like a dashing hero from one of those stories”, Anders said with a sleepy grin and closed his eyes while he tapped Fenris’s leg with his own lightly. Fenris felt a sudden eruption of a laugh which he covered with a cough. He saw the Mage’s grin widen at that.

“Oh?”, Isabela prompted with interest. Anders sat up with a sigh, stretching his arms overs his head and rocking with rhythm but no reason.

“It’s not that though. That trip sounds awful but I’m just so tired from the clinic and getting up for the baby at night you have no idea. Hawke is in for it tonight between her feeding adjustments and a new tooth coming in”, Anders said.

“Babies. Bleh. No thank you. I know you want them and they are cute I suppose but I’m just not made for that”, Isabela returned. 

“The world might be a kinder place if more people were that honest about that,” Fenris said. 

“Well said Broody,” Varric smiled at Fenris then turned to Anders, “Wait. You want a baby?”

“Babies, children- Maker given rights denied my kind because the Chantry does not see us as people, just tools to be made use of like horses,” Anders' voice was biting at first, the familiar tone of his ‘Mage Rights’ propaganda. It set Fenris on edge as it always did. 

Then the Mage’s tone changed in a way it hadn’t before during his past tirades. 

“Grey Wardens are sterile, but there are so many orphans since the Blight. I wish... If things were different I’d follow Hawke and Evelina’s lead but the point is sort of moot for me now what with me living on the run in Darktown. That’s grim and dangerous enough even without my other complications. It wouldn’t be safe for them,” Anders said, tracing a wurl in the wood of the table. Then with a welling of cheer added, “At least I get to play ‘Uncle Anders’ now”. 

Fenris had never heard the Mage frame one of these many public rants so personally. The irritation the Mage’s rants typically inspired lessened. Fenris’s mind was unchanged about the absolute necessity of the Circles but for the first time the slightest inkling of uncertainty wormed unwelcomely into his thoughts. 

“Little Leandra is a lucky girl”, Varric said with a broad smile as he started to organize a stack of papers.

“Anyways, don’t pick anything up at ‘the Rose’”, he said with a wave of his finger to the Pirate. The scolding was outweighed by his irrepressible grin.

“Oh? If I’m a bad girl do I get a spanking?” Isabela asked in a sultry voice as she lent over the table, her voluptuous curves enticing in her low cut blouse. There was something unsaid between the humans, some grain of truth in the joke. The images it conjured in Fenris’s mind of the pair were equal parts arousing and infuriating. He clenched his jaw, feeling a return to the ache above his eye.

Then a second of silence later the two humans busted out in laughter.

“I want to actually  _ discourage  _ you from not being careful. I’ll just let you itch for a day or two before I make you that ointment,” Anders answered with a wrinkled nose.

“You wouldn’t”, Isabela said in exaggerated shock.

“Wouldn’t I?” Anders said then added, “pick someone from my class last week. They are healthy and it should be fun if they have been practicing”.

“Sweetheart, that is Healer’s advice I intend to keep!”, the Pirate said and sprang to her feet. “See you boys around”. She said with a wink before sauntering out the door.

“Well, if I’m going to be traipsing into the fade  _ again  _ I better go get some sleep tonight”, Anders said and stood up, stretching his long arms over his head. It made him seem inhumanly tall from where Fenris sat, his bare toes curled on the dusty floor.

“Give yourself breaks more often, Blondie”, Varric said as he finished closing his papers into a folder, preparing to retire to his room for the evening.

“I’ll try Varric”, the Mage answered with a shrug. He caught Fenris’s eye for an instant as he turned to fasten his staff to his back. His mouth curled into a grin before bidding them a goodnight. 

Fenris watched as the blond shuffled past the bar towards the door. There was something in the scene before him that set Fenris on alert. The icy feeling of something amiss which he had trained to detect as a bodyguard and then honed further as a fugitive. Movement from the bar caught his eye. Two cloaked figures stepped back from the bar as the Mage passed them. The glint of steel shown as orange as a sunset in the firelight and a heavy numbness raced down his brands for an instant. Fenris jumped from his bench and sprang toward them but he could feel the distance was too great. As a blade was about to strike the Mage through the back, Fenris was relieved to see he twirled to the side letting his attacker be pulled forward by the momentum of the strike. 

Now face to face with the other cloaked figure, the Mage reached over his shoulder as if to draw a sword but grasped nothing but air. It was something which Fenris would not have noticed before the Mage had confined his disturbing condition of dual reflexes, his own and those of a dead man. Empty handed, the Mage kicked the man in front of him and dodged to the side of a strike, giving him the time to reach with the other hand to draw his staff. The blade now had a smear of crimson but the Mage continued as if unharmed. He butted the end of it at the first attacker who had turned back around, breaking his nose. Greatsword drawn, Fenris had been hampered by the close quarters and drunken bystanders so instead of a wide swing he used his momentum to run his bland through the nearest assailant. The warrior and the Mage settled into their familiar complimentary battle stances. Even with the Mage avoiding casting there was a reassuring calm to fighting alongside a competent companion.

“I guess you’re dancing with me tonight after all”, the Mage said at his side.

“I haven’t yet chosen your music”, Fenris answered and was pleased by the bark of a laugh the remark got from the Mage in return.

“Harbin!”, the first attacker shouted at the fallen man then turned, furious, to face them. A bolt was embedded in his eye before he could make another move and he fell to his knees beside ‘Harbin’ with a shriek.

“Somebody order a shot in the face?!” Varric’s taunt cut across the sounds of panic filling the room.

The Mage swung one of his long legs to kick the shrieking man in the head head. His heavy boot delivered a punishing blow, more punishing than seemed possible from the lanky frame of the Mage. The hooded man sprawled back, silent and limp. Dark blood seeped from his ruined eye.

Fenris scanned the room for other dangers but nothing else appeared amiss. He turned to the Mage who stood at the ready with his staff, legs bent and spread in a stable stance. It was then that Fenris took in the fact that Anders had not used any magic during the brief fight.

“Shit Blondie. Who did you piss off now?”, Varric said. He had practically materialized beside them. 

Anders pulled back the hood from the man Fenris had run through. The Mage’s eyes swirled with blue for an instant, face cold, before he whispered disdainfully, “Templars”. Indeed, despite the lack of Templar plate-mail, Fenris recognized the two as the men he had struck unconscious with his pummel during ‘The Rose Incident’. An unwelcome surprise which left Fenris eager to find the third.  


“These two attacked me at ‘The Rose’. There was a third”, Anders answered Varric as he continued to scan the room.

“Andraste’s tits, this has not been your lucky week,”Varric swore.

The Mage’s wary look softened, “oh I don’t know about that. I think I’ve been  _ very  _ lucky tonight”. Fenris could not suppress a smile so he ducked his head. He had so little experience with happiness, perhaps that was why he had trouble suppressing it so, even in times like this.  


“Do I want to know Blondie?” Varric asked with a wry quirk of his brow, then continued, “My guys are used to helping Corff take out the trash so you can run on home. Or stay here if you like. Don’t want to wake up to hear you were jumped”.

“Thanks Varric. I’ll head home. I know all the shortcuts and this wasn’t anything official,” the Blond smiled affably. 

“Just be careful”, Varric sighed as examined Bianca.

“Sure thing”, Anders replied with a cocky grin. He caught Fenris’s eye and Fenris felt his pulse, which had calmed from the fight quicken once more. Then the Mage turned and disappeared out the door. He used his staff as a walking stick so it was at the ready. The Mage really was capable in a surprising number of ways. It was appealing. 

“You really booked it over to Blondie”, Varric’s words broke Fenris’s musing.

“Indeed. As I do in most battles. It would not do to have the Healer fall”, Fenris answered calmly. The Dwarf hummed in agreement.

“I must also retire for the evening. I do not relish where Hawke leads us tomorrow”, Fenris continued.

“All the weirdest shit in Kirkwall happens to that man. You be careful tonight too, Elf”, Varric grinned as he stowed Bianca. Fenris nodded and walked out into the night. 

The Mage was leading against the wall beside the door, long limbs folded. The unguarded warmth in his expression was like dawn breaking out in the darkness.

“You were my dashing hero again tonight”, the Mage said, his eyes beguiling in the shadow. The summer nights in Kirkwall were nothing compared to the sweltering nights of Tevinter, but Fenris felt a heat rise nonetheless. An anticipation ran through him, it made his heartbeat pound in his ears.

The Mage pushed off the wall, closer to Fenris and Fenris stepped forward as a drunk couple half fell out the door behind him.

“Shall we go then? You will come home with me tonight?” the Mage asked hopefully.

Fenris swallowed then responded,“Yes, let us make hast.”

As he stepped into pace beside the Mage. He did not notice a certain beardless Dwarf with a bemused look in his sniper’s eyes as the Tavern door swung closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I was going to post together but I could not resist that Varric ending for a chapter.
> 
> Hurt/comfort, fluff, and possible sexy times ahoy


	28. Being Tied Up Inside Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris make their way back to the Clinic, but Anders did not make it through the fight unscathed.  
> Fenris POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much hurt/comfort and fluff  
> I play a bit with the lore here.

**Chapter 28: Being Tied Up Inside Yourself**

Fenris followed the Mage on a winding, unfamiliar path through the darkened alleyways of Lowtown. Fenris knew that as an apostate in this particular city the Mage knew all sorts of byways around town, even if he was often far from subtle in person and his ways were often shorter. Fenris doggedly tried to ignore that he had easily slipped into his well honed routines as a bodyguard, that he did so for another mage. He kept a careful eye out for possible ambushes from that missing Templar, the loud one, or any of the many bands of cut-throats who roamed the city at night. 

As they made their way it became apparent that the Mage’s use of his staff as a walking stick was not merely for show. He walked with a stiff, determined gait, as if to not show weakness, a wise precaution when walking Kirkwall at night. Fenris did not mention his observation in the open, the city at night had a hundred ears, but monitored the Mage with growing concern as his occasional missteps increased in frequency and degree. The Healer’s face was pale and sweat slick in the moonlight. Perhaps it was merely the lingering effects of drink and the accumulated fatigue now that the thrill of battle had ended, but Fenris recalled the blood on the blade in the tavern and felt his unease rise each time the Mage staggered.

When they finally started the descent into Darktown, in the relative privacy of the rickety lift Fenris ventured to question the Mage in a low voice, “Mage are you injured?”

The Mage let out a long sigh, “it will be fine I- ahh!” the Mage cut himself short in alarm. When the lift passed from dimness to the full darkness of the tunnel between levels the Mage lost his balance merely standing still. Fenris felt the lanky man fall partially against him and the back of the lift. 

“Fastas Vass!” Fenris stabilized the tall human. He wrapped an arm under the Mages’ arms for support and pulled him close. The woody scent and heat of the man did not distract from the audible wince and the salty sweet scent of blood which filled his nose now. 

“Why have you not healed yourself?” Fenris asked harshly.

“Can’t. Magebane, “ the man hissed, “Let’s just get back to the clinic. I can treat it there.”

Magebane. Fenris knew of this poison, though he had never before witnessed its effects first hand. It was a popular enough choice for assassins in Tevinter and was prepared in a variety of ways. It was made for weapons application but was also often laced in food provided the bitterness could be masked (1). Fenris had yet to find any in all of Kirkwall, and he had searched for it vigorously.

“Why not simply take a lyrium potion?” Fenis asked.

“If I had any I would have to know how both were made. I know ass all about the specifics of poison making but from what my friend Nat said Magebane sounds similar to making lyrium potion. Both use lyrium dust but they use corruption and concentration agents for Magebane instead of just distillation. If I don’t know what was used I could end up enhancing the Magebane which is in my system already(1). I’ll just have to wait it out I’m afraid”, answered the Blond.

The pair went quiet as the lift came to a halt and walked the short distance to the clinic. Even just in front of the door the un savory aromas of Darktown were fainter with the scents of herbs and soap overshadowing them. The Mage’s hands were shaking as he tried to fit the key in the lock.

“Let me.” Fenris started and phased his hand into the door to unlock it from the other side with a click. The Mage’s huffed in amusement.

“Isabela would be so jealous”, Anders said as the door swung open and they closed themself within, somewhat safer from at least the prying eyes of Darktown. 

The laundry was still hung on haphazard lines. It added sharp lines, corners, and shadows to the normal wide open space of the main room. The banked hearthfire and gave a red glow. One of the moons cut a stark column of pale light through a high window but it did not fall below the rafters.

Without the heat from brewing and washing the dampness in the air was chilled owing to being subterranean. With the added coolness of the ice charm Fenris tensed his muscles to suppress a shiver as he made sure the human did not tumble on the walk through the Clinic to the back room. 

He positioned the Mage to lean against a column and returned to the hearth. He used tongs to snatch an ember in order to light a lamp. In low light the Mage looked decidedly unwell now. 

“It seems I am not entirely familiar with the effects of Magebane. I thought it merely drained mana. Is this a normal reaction?”, Fenris questioned as the Mage doffed his coat. The stain of blood on the Mage’s trousers looked black in the low light.

“Damn it, Lirene just mended these for me”, the Mage exclaimed as he ran his fingers along the tear. He nearly toppled over while looking down at it, would have done so without Fenris catching and righting him.

“Mage”, Fenris said with a voice gravelly with impatience.

“Woops, sorry,” the blond said, then at a growl in his ear from Fenris, hastily added,”Ah yes, the blighted Magebane. It does make the room spin, sort of like someone with a bad ear infection. Magical vertigo. It’s like your sense of where you are is wrong so when you lean over to correct it you fall on your ass. It tends to hit me harder than most Mage’s for some reason (2), but it’s not usually  _ this  _ strong. I think that stupid bastard must have used a preparation meant for consumption. Those are more concentrated(3)”.

“You think? Is it dangerous, this other preparation?”, Fenris said. Fenris had never heard of someone dying from Magebane itself, but if there was a way surely this particular Mage would find it. He stepped back from the Healer and folded his arms across his chest. The tips of his gauntlets dug just slightly painful into his upper arms as he waited for a response. 

“Well we didn’t exactly have time for a chat before you ran him through but it shouldn’t be,” said Anders in annoyance but then the Mage’s mood shifted in the rapid way which confounded Fenris so.“Thank you for that by the way,” the Mage said with a winsome smile from beneath his now messy golden fringe. It made a knot Fenris didn’t realize he had in his stomach ease. If the man could smile like that he must not be so very poorly off.

“What do you need?”, Fenris asked as he started undoing the fastenings to a gauntlet. It was best to remove his armor now. The Mage leant back against the table Fenris had used when helping to brew potions earlier today. The scraps of paper bearing names of herbs still lay scattered about the mortar and pestle. The surfaces were crowded, he had to make space for his armor, but there was an order to it he had never been aware of before he had started helping in the Clinic. There was also a comforting feeling to the smaller room, as if the care taken on behalf of others here lingered in the air. He recalled the Mage’s declaration when Hawke had first come looking for a Warden with maps of the Deep Roads:

_ ‘I have made this place a sanctuary of healing and salvation.’ _

It was true. In the midst of the foulness and misery of Darktown, this stubborn, kind man had made a pocket of goodness. 

“I’ll need to clean the wound, then I’ll just have to wait it out. Could you get me some disinfectant and a clean cloth?” the Mage was back into his Healer’s tone now and began undoing the laces of his trousers. 

Fenris hurried into the clinic proper. When he had just filled a bowl and was returning to the Healer he heard an undignified yelp followed by the sound of breaking glass. 

“Andraste’s knicker weasels!”, the Mage cursed indignantly just as Fenris pulled back the makeshift curtain.

The mage was pushing himself to sit up on the floor. His pants were tangled below his knees where they were still tucked into his boots. His long tunic covered his thighs and the wound there. The remains of an empty flask glittered on the floor beside him.

“This is like being drunk without any of the good parts,” he said and blew wayward strands of hair from his face in a frustrated huff. The lively and childish display was as reassuring as it was farcical. It brought an unexpected burst of laughter from Fenris and in turn a scowl from the fallen Mage.

“Glad you find this so amusing”, the blond said sarcastically.

“With such a graceful display how can I not?”, Fenris replied.

The Mage grumbled to himself and started trying to stand himself up. Fenris quickly added,”Mind the glass! I will assist you”. He placed the bowl and cup of the table and knelt down beside the Mage. He ended up scooping the wobbly man up at his knees as the human let out a sound of surprise.

“What are you-”, started the Mage. His brown eyes seemed to tick back and forth forcefully. He gripped Fenris tightly, one hand on his shoulder and the other around the back of his neck, as if he felt he were already falling. 

“It is faster. I will not let you fall”, Fenris said. After half a moment the Mage’s eyes focused on his and stilled. The hands softened their grip but remained where they were. The fingers on the back of his neck rubbed the skin firmly as if in apology for the rough treatment. It felt good. the muscles there had once again had tensed painfully in the time since the Mage had treated them in the alley beside ‘The Hanged Man’. Fenris felt a rumble of contentment in his chest.

“I’m going to work this out for you tonight but could you take me to an exam table now?” the Mage asked, his sulky pout transformed into a pleased smile. Fenris nodded.

“Carry the cleansing spirits and cloth.” Fenris directed the blond.

“You keep sweeping me up like this I’m going to get ideas”, Anders said just before they reached the table. 

“Is that so”, Fenris said as he rested the Healer in a sitting position on the table.

The Mage attempted to remove his boot but ended up grabbing the table to steady himself. Fenris held the man’s shoulder. 

“Is it getting worse?”, Fenris asked.

“A bit”, the Mage said. He seemed to be trying to focus on something in the distance.

“Lay down before you fall down”, Fenris said.

“Right”, the Mage said and carefully lowered himself onto his back. He pulled a leg up towards his chest to undo the completely unnecessary number of knots. The change in position raised his tunic up. _ Fasta vass!  _ Anders was not wearing undergarments. 

Before such a thing would not have made Fenris bat an eye, especially when treating an injury. He had guarded Danarius on his many trips to the public bath houses throughout the Imperium(4). More affairs of state seemed decided in the steamy air of Minrathos’s most fashionable bath houses than in the actual chambers of the senate. The nudity of others was just a consideration in threat assessment. Even in Sehron the Fog warriors had bathed in groups for safety, it was just a part of life.

Since becoming a fugitive he had remained apart as much as possible. Public baths were not the custom in the Free Marches, but casual nudity, especially for bathing when away from the city when venturing with Hawke, was not unheard of. 

Though he had occasionally found his own eye lingering on the forms of Hawke and Isabela, it never made his heart pound like this. Fenris had the fresh memory from this morning of touching the Mage as he had never touched another as a free man, of the thrill he felt making the human come undone. Fenris felt guilty for having such thoughts as the Mage lay still bloody and wounded. He quickly began to prepare the disinfectant and bandages so as to avert his eyes and to avoid his own thoughts. 

It was not actually a terrible wound, a clean cut that went shallowly into the muscle of the outer thigh, far from dangerous blood vessels. The Mage, having just tucked his socks into his boots poured the sharp, familiar smelling disinfectant on it and wrapped it in bandages with a deftness that spoke to his years of practice as a Healer. 

“I think Corff tried to sell me some of that once”, Fenris said.

“Where do you think I get it?” the Mage laughed as he tucked the end of the bandage in. Fenris felt himself laugh yet again tonight. The Mage looked over at him, leaning back on his outstretched arms. The tunic was once again to his knees as his long pale legs stretched out so far the ankles were fully off the table. 

“On the unusual potions shelf there is a short green jar. I was trying to get it when I fell earlier. Would you mind?” the Healer asked.

“Very well”, Fenris replied and went to the back room. As he was searching for the potion a yelp and the sound of a Mage hitting the floor came from behind the curtain. Fenris sighed and having just spied the potion retrieved it before he returned the ridiculous man.

“We should call you the hapless Healer,” Fenris chided as he entered the Clinic proper. “You can not wait even a moment by yourself?”

“I never was very good at staying still,” Anders said contritely from the floor where he lay on his stomach. 

“Clearly”, Fenris replied dryly as he again pulled Anders to his feet. The human overshot forward and Fenris pulled him back to rest against him. One of Fenris’s hands curled around the taller man’s hip the other around his chest. The loose hairs from the nap of the Mage’s neck tickled his nose. He could feel the human heart beating under the thin material of the tunic. It made him want to tease the Mage, emulate the flirtatious way Anders could charm people. Fenris tilted his head up so as to whisper into the tall man’s ear.

“Fool Mage. Perhaps I should tie you to your bed so as to prevent you from injuring yourself further in your stumbling”, Fenris said, his chin grazed along the exposed skin above the neck line of Anders' soft tunic. He felt the Mage’s heart leap under his fingertips, so pleasantly warm in the cool damp of the Undercity.

“I am not powerless now, I could still magic myself free, but it once made binding no mere suggestion. I-, I do not have good memories of being tied up while drugged with Magebane. I can’t, not while I’m like this. It’s hard to describe how it feels. It’s like being tied up inside yourself already. There's a numbness and things don’t feel entirely real, as if the things you see around you are illusions. The world is like fire without any warmth.”, Mage said with a slow cadence to his voice, a poor mask of calm. Fenris realized the sweat and pallor the Mage had since being wounded was probably not an effect of the poison itself.

Fenris felt the fool. Thoughtless and stumbling more in his clumsy attempt than the drugged Mage. Would he ever learn how to act like a free man would act?

“Apologies”, Fenris said quickly and backed away from the Mage. He kept a hand on Anders’ hip in case the wobbly man faltered again. The Mage lay back into Fenris.

“It’s not your fault Fenris,” Anders said with haste, then added softly, ”I-, any other time-, it’s something to think about.” Even though he was mostly behind Anders, Fenris could see a small smile tugging up the corner of the Mage’s mouth at the last rambling. The man turned slowly to look over his shoulder, brown eyes twinkling as they stopped their strang rolling dance. Fenris’s self directed angry melted at the look. How could the Mage change moods so quickly?

“Would you take me to bed now Fenris?”, the Mage said with a crooked grin. Looking at Anders now, Fenris felt a peculiar ache. It reminded him of when Hadriana would torment him, eating delicious food while denying him anything to eat for days. Now though, what he hungered for was not ripped away from him but waiting in his arms for a response.

Fenris wordlessly took the Mage’s hand with his free one and, wrapping his arm more securely around the Mage’s waist, guided him to the bed chamber.

***

Fenris found exposure of his marked body to scrutiny, even among friends, uncomfortable. So it was with no little trepidation that he sat on the bed with his uncovered back to the Mage. Having removed the charm and placed it on the desk, his skin was extremely sensitive. He could feel pressure and whirls and movement of the Healer’s breath against his skin.

“Just lay down, your muscles are working to hold your stubborn head up”, the Mage snarked behind him. 

“You do not have to do this now, while you are unwell. I am fine”, Fenris groused.

“I want to, whatever else I am, I am a Healer, hapless or otherwise. I can’t just sit if I know you are in pain and I know I can do something to help. Besides, it will keep my mind off the Magebane. It’s not like I could sleep right now anyway”, the Mage responded.

“Very well”, said Fenris and lay back on the bed so that he met the Mage’s gaze, reassuring even upside down. The hair that had fallen from his tie was lit by the candlelight like beams of sunlight.

“I’ll start light. Tell me to stop if you want me to. I’m going to touch your shoulders now,” the Mage said gently. His hands were a sudden heat just resting on the muscles at the top of his arm. Fenris inhaled through his nose sharply.

“Is this alright?”, the Mage’s asked in his lower Healer’s voice.

“It’s fine”, Fenris said tersely.

The Mage started to move his hands. The fingers barely grazed along Fenris’s up arms, not completely soft due to a roughness from calluses. The sensation was overwhelming. 

He gasped, “Stop!” The hands retreated.

“What’s wrong? Did it hurt?” the Mage peered down at him with concern, bottom lip being worried between his teeth. 

Fenris had to think. It had not hurt in any sense he was accustomed to. 

“It was unpleasant, not exactly pain. It felt alarming, like spiders crawling.” he answered. Immediately after he spoke he felt that what he had said would surely cause offense and steeled himself for rebuke.

“Your sensitivity,” The Mage furrowed his brow in thought,”Besides water and the ice charm you could try to get used to different textures: fabrics, sand, feathers. Those sorts of things. Think of it as you would exercises for strength. Later though. Right now you need to relax. Could I try something else in the same area?” the Mage continued in his patient Healer voice.

“Try what?”, Fenris asked cautiously.

“Not magic, just- you didn’t seem to mind so much when I first touched you so perhaps if I kept the pressure up it wouldn’t irritate you”, the Mage explained with a beseeching look.

“Go on then”, Fenris said.

The heat of the human hands returned with a deeper pressure from before but remained in place this time.

“Is this alright?”, Anders asked.

“It is fine, just get on with it”, Fenris answered impatiently.

“I’m going to move my hands now”, Anders said. Fenris just looked up at him as the hands moved to his back, thumps pressed the muscle at the top of his back into the fingers below. The tissues were more sore than he had realized and the Mage brought out a pleasurable ache from them as he began to press, pull and massage the overworked muscles. Fenris felt the muscles forced to release, more gradually than when touching the Mage. The process pulled moans from him at times as he found himself relaxing under the Healer’s ministrations.

Skillful hands maneuvered Fenris’s head into different positions, stretching muscles and exposing hidden points of pain which he worked out. Fenris felt a heaviness in his body from the release of tension, but allowing himself to be guilded into motions, to not have to think about what he was doing and just trust in Anders’ skill as a Healer- it made Fenris feel light, like he was floating.

Fenris felt utterly relaxed as the strong fingers massaged circles over his head like a crown. Then they slid down to press a finger to surprisingly tender points at the corners of Fenris’s jaw. 

“I have a balm for you, but there is something else I’d like to try first. It’s a little odd”, Anders said and smiled bashfully. 

“Hmmm?” Fenris asked.

“The muscles just here”, Anders said and pressed those tender points for emphasis, “are best reached from inside the mouth”. 

Fenris just stared in hesitation a moment as the Mage as his cheeks reddened. The Mage seemed to enjoy having fingers in his own mouth at any rate. It would not be the worst thing he’d put in his mouth was the uncomfortable second thought which came to Fenris. Yet this had been so unexpectedly soothing Fenris was curious. Just as the Mage released his hold on him, Fenris parted his lips.

“You’re sure?”, the Healer asked.

“Yes”, Fenris answered and let his jaw open again. 

“Then I need you to move up more”, the Healer said. Fenris let himself be guided to lean against the Mage, if he turned his head he would have his ear resting over the man’s heart. The human body heat and the softness of what seemed suspiciously like a well worn robe quickly lulled Fenris back into this heretofore unknown relaxation.

The Mage’s calloused thumb brushed against teeth and tongue but when it pitched flesh against the Mage’s finger on the outside of his jaw the pleasant painful sensation was sharper than any so far. A familiar spike of pain pierced above his eye. Fenris inhaled through his nose but did not move, he had of course felt much worse without moving before.

“There we go”, the Healer said with a note of satisfaction. He was unrelenting in his pressure but the pain seemed to melt. When it was gone the thumb was withdrawn. Fenris quickly wiped away the trail of drool from his cheek and held along the jaw as he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Feeling better?”, Anders asked, obviously pleased with himself. His inverted face was practically glowing. His warm hands rested where they had begun on Fenris’s shoulders.

“Much”, Fenris answered in voice gravelly even to his own ears. The word was a pitifully lacking expression of how he felt. Still with that strange floating sensation he caught one of the Mage’s hands from his shoulder and pulled it in front of him. “You are very skilled with your hands”.

“Ah, thank you”, the Mage said, squirming as Fenris traced along each of his fingers. He lifted the hand close. Then, impulsively, he licked a line along the palm to the tip of a long finger.

The Mage gasped. Fenris felt his own laugh as much as he heard it; it seemed to make his whole body hum. It was a very nice sound from the Mage and one Fenris wanted coax out again, but not right now. Anders was not well and. He rolled off and to the side of the Mage. The air felt chill over his back without the heat of the human pressed against him.

“You are feeling more grounded?” he asked the flustered man.

“What? Oh! Yes. The dizzy spells are less. I could probably walk across the room without falling on my ass now”, the Mage chuckled and fidgeted with his hands. 

“Then let us get some rest. Tomorrow promises much danger”, Fenris said. There was a brief look of disappointment on the Mage’s face before he shook it off.

“Yes. Yes, you are right”, the Mage said softly, the smile did not reach his eyes. He pulled himself over to curl up facing the wall with a thin blanket, as he had the night after the Lowtown Massacre. 

Though still close enough to touch there was a chilled distance between them now. Fenris frowned. Unsure about what had prompted this swing in the moody Mage, he sat and observed the human. The position accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and the leanness of his tall frame. Fenris resolved to make sure the Mage had more food, away from Darktown so he would not just give it away to the nearest begger. He was generous to a fault without ever asking for anything in return. Even just now with his healing hands...Ah. 

“Anders,” Fenris said, siding up behind the man. He wrapped an arm around his middle and squeezed the Mage to his chest. The Mage tensed. 

“I thought you wanted to sleep”, Anders said carefully. 

“We will become tangled when we fall asleep,”Fenris replied. He pressed a cheek to the back of the human’s shoulder and inhaling the scent of the man. The heat humans generated was so pleasant Fenris pressed himself closer. 

“You  _ like  _ cuddling!”Anders' voice squeaked in surprise.

“I do not know. I like doing this... with you” Fenris answered.

“Oh”, the Mage responded,”I like it too”. A quiet warmth returned to his voice and he relaxed back into Fenris. 

Later, just as Fenris felt himself begin to slip into sleep, the Blond yawned and muttered, “Don’t worry, if you start humping me again Justice won’t be a knucklehead about it.”

“He might not be able to help it, it’s your head after all”, Fenris mumbled into Anders' back and they both hummed with laughter but stilled quickly in their sleepiness.

“Geh jetzt schlafen, Geliebter(5)”, Fenris heard Anders murmur just as he drifted off.

***

_ She was crying. There was a tiny elf girl crying outside the back door to the kitchen. Her hand covered in welts nearly as red as her hair. She ran to Fenris. She was only a head shorter than him but he scooped her up to carry her away.  _

_ The world faded and he was curled up, watching the girl sleep. They were on either side of a woman who was humming a soothing tune. He felt safe, loved and loving. It was the best place in all of Thedas to be. _

***

Fenris opened his eyes. The Mage had turned over in his sleep so that now Fenris pressed his face to the man’s chest, their arms and legs entangled.

Fenris let his eye lose focus trying to hold the memory of his dream. He had a family. He had a sister. He had a mother. Again and again he replayed it until he was sure the details would not slip away. When he was satisfied he pulled back slightly and lifted his head to rest on a hand. He looked down on the Mage as he slept, this man who could somehow return what had been taken from Fenris without even so much as a spell from his research.

The human gave a snort in his sleep, wiggled his nose and went back to the even breathing of deep sleep. He touched a hand to the human’s rough cheek. He was beautiful. Fenris let himself lay down facing the Mage. The hand which had been brushing the Mage’s scruff sought out his hand instead. Fenris lay awake for some time, watching over the sleeping man before returning to sleep himself.

***

Footnotes:

  1. I was frustrated that there is so little on Magebane in the actual lore but I guess that just let’s me make things up :) It is only a poison to coat melee weapons in Origins but I decided to expand on that in my story. I found it interesting that lyrium is used in making magebane. Oh, there is a bug where Magebane can increase mana so I decided to make a way a lyrium potion could reverse via drug interactions with Magebane depending on the ingredients.
  2. Real vertigo can have many causes. Several involve the vestibular system on the ear but vertigo can be caused by the brain or even the neck. I am not trying to emulate any of them specifically. The way I’m thinking about it, Magebane would deplete mana and then temporarily dull access to the fade but I imagine it would also have a physical effect on Mages because it would affect how they feel magic, the fade and the world around them. This could make them physically off balance (vertigo). As a Spirit healer Anders is more in tune with the fade and thus would be affected more. 
  3. I’m treating Magebane as a drug which would partially metabolize in the liver so it would need to be stronger if you drank it (first pass effect of the hepatic portal vein system if you are curious). 
  4. I am using a bit of Roman history which I see a lot of borrowed in Teventer already. 
  5. Geh jetzt schlafen, Geliebter. - Go to sleep now, beloved (My dear German speaking readers, please give me corrections if I have made errors)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my lovelies! I hope you liked this one! Let me know ^__^  
> Also, I have tried something different with spacing, is it better?  
> I am thinking we may have another *interesting* morning in the next chapter before we head into plot heavy chapters...
> 
> Anders POV next...


	29. Purple Lilac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wake up. Sexy times and feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> explicit- I try to be more descriptive here so it maybe is not everyone's cup of tea.  
> porn with feelings  
> mild differences in human and elf anatomy and physiology (not enough to need a specific tag I think)  
> oral sex  
> panic attack
> 
> extremely sleep deprived writer!
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I can't believe how far this has gone. These smutty chapters are always the most nerve racking for me to put together. I hope it makes sense.

Chapter 29: Purple Lilac

Anders awoke slowly. Before he even opened his eyes he could feel his mana pool returned. It surrounded him like a comforting blanket, ready to protect him if needed. 

His first actual thought was that there was a cat on his head. 

“Pounce?”, he murmured. The confusion woke him fully and he found himself pressed against a smooth, dark skinned chest, a chest embellished with white lines of lyrium which hummed faintly at this distance.

His second thought was how nice it felt to wake up holding this elf. 

“Fenris?”Anders tried again, now awake enough to be both hopeful for continued affections but also afraid of another rejection.

The elf made an intelligible noise as he nuzzled into Anders' hair, inhaling deeply in little huffs that made Anders' scalp tingle. 

‘Smelling me’, Anders realized and tucked that little gem away for later. This was one of the oddest and nicest ways he could remember ever waking up.

The plane of the elf’s chest in front of him was tempting, but he didn’t need the rumble of discontent from Justice to tell him it was not acceptable to lick the sleeping elf. Instead he pressed his hand against the warrior’s back and rubbed.

“Fenris, wake up,” he said tilting his head a bit, his chin grazing Fenris’s chest.

“Your scruff is rough”, Fenris said, groggy and somewhat muffled by Anders’ hair.

“Oh, sorry”, Anders started to pull back but found himself moved forward by limbs of steel, his cheek fairly flattened against the elf.

“I didn’t say to leave”, Fenris grumbled.

“Oh?” Anders questioned and smirked against the firmness before brushing his face slowly back and forth across it. The elf clutched at him and let out a short gasp. Anders broke into a delighted laugh, a playfulness he hadn’t felt in far too long overtook him. So as not to actually give the elf a burn from his ministrations, he brushed his way to Fenris’s stomach which was rewarded with further interesting vocalizations from the elf but after a few brushes the hand on his shoulder tightened and the elf keened in a pitch Anders would not have thought him capable of. He halted his bristly attack and rested his forehead over the elf’s heart as the both lay close on their sides.

“Are you alright up there?” Anders asked softly.

“I am... well. That is an intense sensation”, Fenris replied as he began to play with Anders' hair with one hand. “I suppose it is like those exercises you mentioned”.

Anders laughed, “Yes, I suppose it would challenge your sensitivity. I would never use this  _ specific  _ technique for anyone else though”.

“Hmmm”, Fenris responded as he let his finger trace the shell of Anders’ ear. It was Anders’ turn to gasp. “You are sensitive, yourself”.

“Y-yes”, Anders answered, feeling his cheeks flame. His playfulness suddenly took a very different turn.

Justice had been distant for much of the morning but now Anders could feel him as he hoovered with interest at the back of their mind, especially whenever their eye followed a swirl of the lyrium which was so enticingly close. Visions of Monkshood(1) danced in his mind.

‘Maker!  _ Calm yourself Justice. This right now is not about the lyrium or phasing _ ’, Anders tried to push back to his other half a sense of calm.

“Perhaps I might try something different?” Anders asked. He wished to soothe the skin he had just tormented. He gave a quick kiss to the softness just below the elf’s sternum and felt the muscles jump but the elf continued to play with his hair so he gave a less hurried kiss just above Fenris’s navel.

“May I use my mouth on your stomach?”, Anders asked and paused for a moment to wait for Fenris to respond.

“That would be something...new”, the elf said with an awkward stiffness. 

“Is that a new you would like to try? I will stop if you tell me to,”Anders said, seeking clarification.

“Yes”, Fenris replied, his voice rougher than normal. His ears twitched. Anders could never remember seeing him wiggle his ears with nerves before, even when fighting outnumbered.

‘How could someone be brave and adorable at the same time?’, Anders thought, before he gave another kiss over the last. He pressed longer and let his lips part instead of pulling back to let his tongue dart out and swiped a firm lick from navel to breastbone. Fenris tasted of salt and smelled of leather. He could both hear Fenris gasp and feel the elf’s belly pull a breath in. Anders peppered the warrior’s muscular stomach with licks and kisses. The lyrium lines were slightly raised and made his tongue tingle. He felt a push from the Spirit within him to focus his attention there. 

‘ _ This is not about the lyrium, it is about him _ ’ Anders pushed back hard and the Spirit quickly quieted but visions of reeds, tuberose, and peony(2) came to Anders mind’s eye and faded

Very carefully, he ventured to add a press of teeth. Fenris liked that, so little nips were added to the ways in which he tore those wonderful sounds from the warrior. It was gratifying to be the one to pull such sounds from Fenris for a change. The deep rumbles and hitched sighs went straight to Anders’ cock. Before too long he could feel it, stiff and leaking fluid on his stomach and thigh under his tangled old sleeping robe. 

Anders smiled to himself as he pulled back a bit, pleased that even without any practice for years he seemed to not have gotten rusty. The elf’s tight leather pants did not obscure his very aroused state at any rate. Anders propped himself up on an elbow to look Fenris in the face. He snatched the hand which slipped from his hair to hold gently. Maker, he was gorgeous. Anders had never been particularly interested in elves, not like some humans seemed to, but Maker- Fenris. Those green eyes held a near wild hunger now. It made Anders pulse race.

“I would very much like to show you those skills we talked about before you left for Sundermount”, Anders said slowly and, bringing the elf’s hand close, enveloped a lyrium lined finger in his mouth. He sucked on it and released it with a lick before continuing,”would you like that Fenris?”

“I, I’ve never...”, the elf trailed off. 

“You have not...”, Anders started in surprise but was interrupted.

“No. I have never received such attention”, Fenris said quickly. Small changes Anders would have missed before spoke to the elf’s embarrassment. 

“Do you want to try it?,”Anders asked matter of factly, not wanting to further embarrass the elf, “I will stop whenever you like, but I think you will find my mouth very agreeable...for a change”.

Fenris huffed a laugh at that, looking less embarrassed. Good. 

Anders dropped his voice, trying for sultry, “May I show you how to take your pleasure in this way?”

“Yes. Yes, show me”, Fenris replied, voice soft and deep.

Anders felt himself smile like a cat who had caught a fat pigeon.

“Scoot up a bit”, Anders said. Fenris did so, but tensed in his new position. Anders kissed the lyrium lined hand before sliding down to be eye-level with the warrior’s navel. One long leg hung off the bed while his top leg was bent up to balance himself The position pulled at his wound.

“Do you mind if I heal myself right now?”, Anders asked. 

“You don’t need to ask me to heal yourself”, Fenris said in a clipped voice. Anders did so and watched as Fenris shuttered. Anders lay his hands over Fenris’s.

“Relax”, he said and began lavishing the elf’s stomach again until the elf’s held his hand loosely. Then he dropped down to pull at the hem of the elf’s pants with his teeth. “This would work better without these”, Anders said wryly. Fenris’s hand moved quickly to undo the fastenings, lift his hip so as to lower his pants and shuck them to the floor. He wore no undergarments. 

Anders remembered the first time he had seen an elf’s cock as an apprentice. He had thought there was some sort of disease at work with the slight difference in shape compared to humans. The next day Enchanter Wynne had to kick him out of the room and keep him after lessons to first give him a stern talking to about rudeness then corrected him. That had started Anders on an intense new research obsession - comparative anatomy. It was a decent enough distraction from his captivity, at least for a little while considering the limitations the Chantry put on such texts. Later when he put his research to more practical use that had been an even better distraction.

Looking back he really had been a little shit about it. Now though, Anders licked his lips at the sight before him. 

It was slender but long for an elf but Fenris was the tallest elf he had ever met so it seemed proportionate. The lyrium lines did not extend so far, but he could see three dots forming a small triangle just below the crown. His foreskin had been cut. It was an uncommon thing to have done throughout most of Thedas and Anders had little experience with it. The nob was flush, somehow seeming more naked with the delicate elven trim around the crown exposed. He wondered if it would affect what Fenris would like best, his mind reeled with excitement as he considered the things he might try.

“Will you be leaving this on?”, Fenris asked with mild distaste, pulling at the collar of Anders’ sleeping robe and breaking Anders out of his reverie.

“You will see my back a lot from there. Will that be off putting?”, Anders asked, self conscious. Fenris stopped pulling at the robe.

“I know what you look like and I would see you. If you are uncomfortable with that then forget I asked”, Fenris replied. Anders looked at Fenris’s navel a moment as if it held secrets to some ancient mystery. Then he pushed himself up from his side and pulled the robe over his head, tossing it to the floor to join Fenris’s pants. He moved to crouch beside the curled up elf so he was looking directly into the elf’s wide eyes. He dropped down to plant a quick kiss on the surprised elf’s lips before nestling back down on his side below Fenris, eye level with his navel and curling his body around the elf’s legs. His head rested on his bent arm. He grasped the warrior’s hip firmly with his top arm in deference to the elf’s sensitive skin.

“Wrap your leg around me?”, Anders asked and after a brief hesitation the muscled limb was heavy atop him.

He kicked his own leg back and forth off the edge of the bed in excitement as he started licking at the navel in front of him, showering Fenris’s lower abdomen with the same attention as he had above before. The elf let out sensuous sighs and moans. Anders stopped sucking on the skin near Fenris’s hip to reveal the reddening of a love bite. He felt a satisfaction in marking Fenris like this, leaving him a hidden reminder. The groans Fenris let out while Anders worked on them attested to how much the elf approved.

‘Maker, I’ve missed this!’, Anders thought. It had been so long since he had touched someone like this, longer since someone who mattered. Reading someone to find out what they liked- it felt joyful and powerful. Justice was trying to retreat to the back of their mind in confusion, but for the part of him that was Anders the man it was like going so long without food you no longer felt hungry then suddenly smelling your favorite meal. The physicality was wonderful but it was more than that. He hadn’t felt like this since those first awkward times with Karl. It was both sweet and scary to realize that he could not imagine this with anyone else anymore. 

Anders looked up to check on the elf. His face was flush with desire but he seemed tense in a way that felt wrong. He looked off to the side and his hands were fisted tightly. He seemed unsure of what to do with them. Anders smiled up at him in as reassuring a way as he could. He unbent the arm he was resting his head on and reached out to coax Fenris into holding hands.

“Would you like to hold my head?”, Anders asked, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over Fenris' hand and hip. Fenris tensed further.

“You would have me- I would not force- ”, Fenris responded in obvious distress, “I am doing this wrong. Perhaps this is a bad idea”.

‘Maker’s balls!’ Anders cursed himself silently, knowing that he had stumbled into another of the ex-slaves' horrible memories. 

“Wait! No, Fenris, you have done nothing wrong. You never have to do anything you are uncomfortable with,”Anders interrupted. Fenris calmed at that, meeting Anders' eyes finally, “But I meant you could guide me, like when people dance. Or you could play with my hair!” he added with a hopeful grin, “I really like that. Or we could just hold hands like this. This is nice too. There’s no one way to do this. As long as we are both happy we are doing it right.” Anders babbled animatedly. He squeezed Fenris’s smaller, darker hand.

“You like it when I play with your hair?”, Fenris asked tentatively.

“So much”, Anders answered enthusiastically.

Fenris slowly removed his hand from Anders’ and started to card his fingers through Anders' hair. It sent a wave of goose flesh over Anders' scalp, back and arms. 

“Oh. That feels good”, Anders moaned into Fenris’s hip as the elf’s slender, strong fingers dug deeper through his locks to the scalp. He folded his arm back down to support his head and neck while he lay on his side.

“Hmm”, Fenris sounded pleasantly surprised.

Anders returned to giving Fenris hip attention but started to work his way down the line between the elf’s thigh and abdomen, lifting the muscular leg a bit more to tongue at the delicate skin. He came to the small thatch of hair which was shorter and softer than a human’s, very much like the hair which grew on the elf’s head except it was nearly black. He inhaled deeply. Elves had such a different but heady musk, a bit spicy. It made Anders' mouth water and sent a thrill through him. He pulled back a bit and gave several quick little licks over the sensitive lower swelling of the elf’s length before tilting his head to suck at it. 

“Anders!”Fenris rasped out before making a noise that was like a cross between a growl and a purr. The fingers in his hair stilled. Anders felt a rush of happiness at finding something new for Fenris to enjoy. He moved his mouth down to Fenris’s stones and preceded to lick a broad line back up, over the lower swelling, and along the rest of the shaft to the tip before once again looking up. 

The elf’s eyes were dilated, shiny black contrasting with the white locks falling over them. So dark that at first Anders was reminded of how warden eyes would turn. The thought vanished under the elf’s heated gaze. 

“May I guide you?” Anders asked, applying pressure to Fenris' hip with the hand that rested there and pleased at how responsive the elf was to the slightest of touches as he rolled his hips just so.

“ _ Yes _ ”, Fenris nearly growled. Anders’ own ignored cock throbbed at the deep timbred voice. Eager though he was to make Fenris shutter and writhe, he recalled the elf’s panic the morning before leaving.

“I will stop at your say so. Don’t hesitate if you are uncomfortable but I want you to know you can peak in my mouth if you like that idea, I know  _ I _ like that idea. Or if not we can get me nice and messy again. I would enjoy either. Or we can do something else entirely. Just let me know what feels right and what does not,” Anders said with a smile. Fenris looked contemplative despite his arousal but nodded. Without further comment Anders bowed his head back down to lick the length of the elf’s cock a few times before taking the head into his mouth. He swiped his tongue back and forth along the uneven texture of the crown’s fringe. It was such a small difference, but he knew it was usually very sensitive for elven men.

Fenris practically howled.

He enjoyed doing this, had developed a reputation for it in the Tower, whether in clandestine liaison with another apprentice or using it as a distraction. At 'the Pearl he had learn to take his time and savor the experience. There was a power in it, but it felt more intense now. Anders went to work on the elf with enthusiasm, finding what pulled those sinful sounds from Fenris filled Anders with joy. Each sound and shutter the normally stoic warrior let out sent a thrill through him, an exhilarating combination of elation and arousal. 

Fenris played with Anders' hair but paused frequently, distracted by Anders’ ministrations. Drawing the responsive elf’s hips forward and back, Anders took his length deeper until his lips were sliding over the lower swell with each movement. Fenris moans increased. 

He repositioned the hand he had been resting on the elf’s stomach to pump along the base of the elf’s erection which he could not reach with his mouth. It would have his neck aching but would be worth it. Besides, being a healer meant he could be more adventurous in bed if he wanted to. However, the elf stilled at the touch.

“Stop,” Fenris cried out harshly. Anders lifted his hand away and pulled back to let the length in his mouth slide free. “Don’t hold me there”. 

Anders moved his hand back to the elf’s sensitive stomach and pulled back a bit, concerned by the tone in the elf’s voice that he had touched on something traumatic.

In a calm voice he said, “Sure. Was everything else feeling good?”

“I- yes. It feels extraordinary. Just do not hold me there”, Fenris said.

“Of course. You did very well telling me. Thank you”, Anders smiled, the elf was coming back from whatever had gotten ahold of him. “Whose cock is this?” Anders asked softly, just letting his bottom lip rest lightly against the cockhead. Fenris’s eyes wided a fraction before he seemed to recognize what Anders was saying.

“Mine”, Fenris replied, realigned to the here and now, not whatever it was that haunted him.

“Yes. Very good. Do you still want to take your pleasure Fenris?”, Anders asked.

“Yes”, Fenris answered, his voice husky, no longer panicked.

Could I try holding your backside like this?” Anders asked. He slid his hand from the elf’s hip to his muscular rump and gave it a firm squeeze. 

“Venhedis Mage!”Fenris shouted then breathlessly added,”Yes, that is- I like that Anders”.

Anders smiled, letting his lips brush against Fenris’s still very interested cock.

“Good. May I?”, Anders asked while he continued to tease the sensitive flesh.

“Fasta vass,  _ yes _ ”, Fenris rasped.

Anders took the elf’s length back into his mouth. He squeezed the firm backside as he guided Fenris. Oh, Fenris liked that. His fingers curled slightly against Anders’ scalp, short nails digging in. The bit of pain caused Anders to hum in approval which in turn brought further delicious sounds from Fenris. He could feel the warrior was close. Anders himself was aching from bringing Fenris to this state. He dug his fingers into the elf’s rump and guided Fenris into a quicker pace than before, using the hand on Fenris’s stomach as a counter so he would not gag himself..

The warrior cried out as loud as he did before battle. The fingers in his hair tighten, pulling Anders locks between them and the leg slung over Anders flexed in a vice-like hold, the heel digging into his back. Anders’ mouth was flooded with bittersweet fluid as he brought Fenris to his peak. He continued to suck at the elf’s cockhead, but as the spurts lessened he let it slide from his mouth. Fenris made an almost pained sound as he continued to climax. He normally thought it unfair how long elves would go for but now he was giddy about it. He wished he could make  _ this  _ elf’s pleasure last as long as possible. Before the elf finished, he once again found the lower swelling with his mouth and started sucking at it, a trick he had picked up what seemed like ages ago. It strained his neck but he was rewarded with more desperate moans from Fenris. Warm wetness splashed against Anders cheek, neck and shoulder from the second peak of pleasure he had pushed the elf to. He felt warm spent dripping into his hair between the elf’s fingers.

When Fenris was finally exhausted he went limp. The only movement from him were the rhythmic deep breathing and the gentlest carding of his fingers in Anders' hair.

He shuffled himself up in the bed to lay facing the elf. His face was so open with something like unguarded awe. He looked so innocent, delicate. The normally intimidating warrior looked so delicate. It made Anders catch his breath, almost afraid to touch him. Almost.

Anders let the hand trail up to the elf’s back. The other found and held the smaller man’s hand.

‘Maker, I’ve sucked his brains out’, Anders first thought humorously before becoming concerned. Something was off. He was acting like one of Hamish’s more adventurous clients from the Pearl after an intense session. Anders feared he had pushed the elf too far too fast. 

“Fenris?” Anders rubbed at the elf’s back.

‘Maker damn me, I'm so bloody impulsive!’Anders cursed himself silently.

‘ _ We have hurt him, we must assist him _ ”, Justice’s voice echoed in the back of his mind.

‘I will. I can do this. Stay back Justice’, Anders thought, just as much to convince himself as the Spirit.

“I’d like to hold you, is that alright?” Anders asked.

Fenris nodded, still looking dazed.

Anders pulled the elf close. He tucked the white crowned head under his chin and hugged him.

“You were so brave Fenris. You did so well,” Anders said. He rubbed circles into Fenris’s shoulder. “You are safe here. If you didn’t like anything you can say.”

“It was...I didn’t know it could feel like that”, Fenris mumbled into Anders' chest.

“Is that a good thing or…?” Anders asked.

“It is good”, Fenris replied. He sounded as lucid as ever now.

“Well good”, Anders replied, feeling better. The elf nestled closer. One hand played with Anders' sparse chest hair. The touch soothed Anders’ anxiety further. Anders rolled on to his back, letting Fenris rest against his chest, one led slipped between Anders’. This had an unplanned effect- the side of Fenris’s hip brushed up against his still hard cock. Anders reflexively bit his lip to stifle a gasp. 

‘Fucking Warden stamina’, Anders thought, nervous that it would ruin this peaceful moment as Fenris recuperated from wherever his mind went. Yet he could not help but also be hopeful of where it might lead.

“Anders”, Fenris said calmly.

“Yes Fenris”, Anders said in a higher voice than normal.

“You are aroused”, Fenris said.

“Yes Fenris”, Anders answered, feeling his heart rate spike.

“From pleasuring me”, Fenris said.

“Yes, but you don’t need to- ah!” Anders called out as he felt the elf slide fully on top of him, settling between Anders legs, slick belly pressed down to pin Anders' length between them. Anders bucked himself up against the elf instinctively before he caught himself and stilled his movements with a desperate sort of whine.

“I didn’t say stop Mage”, Fenris drawled with an overtone of amusement. The title of Mage seemed more an affectionate pet name now.The fingers that played with his chest hair brushed over a nipple which made Anders bite his lip again to quell a gasp.

Anders felt the elf shift so that his chin rested on his chest, large eyes stared up at Anders. They shone with some emotion Anders could not fully discern but it made his heart ache in response. Old, forbidden longings he thought he had hidden away from himself sprang forth - to protect, to hold, to be held -  _ to be close _ . It was wonderful and terrifying.

”Don’t injure your lip”, the elf said with a slightly demanding turn to his tone, snapping Anders’ attention away from his inner malstrom. It also had the confusing effect of making Anders want to both mind him and also to bite harder in defiance, with a surge of lust beneath the contradicting impulses. He usually favored defiance. 

What settled his indecision was Fenris’s thumb as it traced along his bottom lip. He let them part and took the thumb into his mouth, closing his eyes. Before he could do anything else it pushed his tongue down and rubbed it in that oddly soothing way.

“What do  _ you _ need, Anders? You seem to want to  _ relieve some tension _ as you say”, Fenris said assertively. Anders opened his eyes. Fenris’s face has closed. He wore a calculating expression not unlike when he was assessing an enemy for weaknesses in battle. Anders shivered under that gaze, aroused by it but also craving the warmth that had disappeared. 

Fenris slid himself against Anders just enough to have him moaning around the thumb in his mouth before it withdrew. 

“Bitte. Lass mich dich küssen(3)”, the words came out in a rush. Fenris eyes widen, widen in understanding. His movement stopped.

“You’ve been learning Ander without me?”, Anders said in a clipped laugh to cover his embarrassment.

“You make me curious”, Fenris said softly, eyes searching. He was as eerily still as one of those statues in the Tower.

‘I guess he doesn’t want that after all’, Anders thought with profound disappointment. 

“It’s alright. I guess my breath would be pretty bad now”, Anders tried to cover the hitch in his voice with another forced laugh as he looked away. There was a wet chill as he felt Fenris lift himself off of Anders. Anders let his arms fall away from the elf. He felt discarded and he hated the taint in his blood which kept him hard even as he felt so miserable.

There was a soft warmth pressed to the corner of his mouth. He turned. Fenris was so close he could not focus on his face, so close he crossed his eyes trying. He brought his hands back up to frame Fenris’s face, guiding him closer. The kisses were shy and sweet. Lips softened slowly but did not deepen. Time felt slowed, as if they were caught in some sort of strange, wonderful spell. The intensity of the feelings long held at bay overwhelmed Anders, he felt a prickling at his eyes. Fenris’s elbows rested on either side of Anders' head as he crouched above him. It made Anders feel safe. Eventually Fenris pulled back. Anders heard himself make a needy keen but could not bring himself to care. Pride be damned.

Fenris’s lips turned up in a small smile that, for Fenris, was beaming. Gorgeous. Geliebter(4).  _ Love _ . 

“I find myself  _ very  _ curious,'' Fenris said, keeping eye contact as one hand wandered Anders’ chest, gathering the cooled slickness there. The remains of the elf’s spent was still wet, not tacky as Anders’ would be by now. Elf’s were just unfair that way.

“Oh?”, Anders said. Fenris’s hand grazed over Anders’ cock, it was not quite wet enough to be pleasant but the eroticism of it made Anders moan. Fenris looked rather pleased with himself. 

“You  _ like  _ getting me nice and messy”, Anders exclaimed. At the darkening of Fenris’s cheeks and ears he quickly added, “I like it too”.

“Would you use that spell? Make yourself more slippery?” Fenris asked.

“You got a head start on that I think”, Anders said but complied eagerly, perhaps a bit too eagerly as the odorless grease coated his front and dripped down his sides. The elf cast his gaze away, suddenly bashful.

“Fenris? What is it? What do you want?” Anders asked, reaching up to hold the warrior above him

“I want... to watch you peak, but I want to be... closer. Would that be...can we do that?” Fenris expressed hesitantly, brows knitted together. 

“Maker Fenris. Yes. Bitte. Ich will nur dich(4). Please”, Anders said. He could hear his voice crack.

Fenris turned back to him with that studying look again before he lowered himself to be flush with Anders once more, half laying on him and straddling one of Anders thighs. His strong hand closed around Anders’ length and began to pump slowly. Anders reached up to hold Fenris. Between the sudden attention to his cock and the delightful closeness of Fenris Anders bit his lip. The salty taste of blood mixed with the lingering bitter sweet of Fenris.

“Do not bite yourself Anders”, Fenris instructed with a tap of a finger to Anders’ lip. It was almost automatic how Anders parted his lips for that calloused finger now.

“There is blood”, Fenris said with a frown.

“Entschuldige!(6) Sorry, Sorry. I’ll be good. Please Fenris,” Anders rambled desperately.

The warrior made a deep rumbling sound that reminded Anders of a large cat. 

“Show me then”, Fenris said, he traced his finger along Anders' bottom lip before letting it fall away. He returned it to Anders' length, Stroking it firmly and slow. In turn Anders reacted by bucking up against him with a moan. Fenris’s skin was so smooth. Anders' hands caressed over as they lay entangled.

“Good”, Fenris whispered into his ear as Anders moaned.

Anders continued to buck up against Fenris. Every moan, sigh or needy word, whether in Common or Anders, was met with encouragement from Fenris. It did not take long. Anders felt his orgasm crash through him and spilled hotly over Fenris's hand. He clutched Fenris to him as his vision went white and pleasure thrummed through him. 

When it ebbed Anders felt boneless. Fenris trailed his warm spent over his belly and chest. Fingers carded through his hair and the elf had his face pressed close just behind Anders' ear. He could feel and hear the elf as he breathed deeply, smelled Anders. The warm breath rustled loose hairs and gave him goosebumps. 

From the back of his mind Justice sent him mossy saxifrage and almost hesitantly purple lilac(7).

‘ _ Yes, at least first I have let us admit the truth of it. _ ’, Anders let the thought drift in his mind, and let memories of the recent past rise to his mind. Fenris. 

He held onto Fenris, nearly holding his breath. He didn’t want this moment to end. He knew he could never really have the things he wanted; it never worked out for him in the end, but it was nice to be as close as he could and just let himself pretend, for a little while.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> Reference used in this and other chapters - The Language of Flowers by Kate Greenaway
> 
> My lovely German speaking readers: please give me corrections if needed ^__^)
> 
> 1.Monkshood (Justice shall be done to you)   
> (oh my goodness Justice!)  
> 2\. Bundles of Reed with their panicles(Music)Tuberose (Dangerous Pleasures) Peony (shame)  
> 3\. Bitte. Lass mich dich küssen- Please. Let me kiss you.  
> 4\. Geliebter - beloved  
> 5\. Bitte. Ich will nur dich- Please. I just want you.  
> 6\. Entschuldige! - Sorry! (i think this is the correct sorry to use- help me German readers!)  
> 7\. mossy saxifrage (affection) Purple Lilac (First emotions of love)
> 
> Eek! Goodness smut is so difficult to write! I'm so much less sure of my self writing it and find myself going back and changing things. Feedback would be good. I hope it was alright. It was rather long and Anders POV is a bit scattered but that's how I imagine his mind to be.  
> Next will be a bit of Fenris POV (I was torn on which POV to use in this chapter). Definitely slice of life and maybe some sexiness. Then off to a lot of plot and quests with multiple POVs. 
> 
> Thank you for reading ^__^ Comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!


	30. The Pull of Those Insidious Bindings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broody elf broods - mostly Fenris POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness! 30 chapters!
> 
> Warnings: brief mentions of slavery, sexual abuse and brainwashing/emotional manipulation
> 
> E to be safe- Fenris reflects on the events of the last chapter and there is a small, far less descriptive sexy scene.

**Chapter 30: The Pull of Those Insidious Bindings**

Anders had drawn Fenris close in a tangle of limbs. It should have been uncomfortable but it was not. They lay together a short time in the dim light heralding dawn until the Healer had been called out by a frantic knocking at the door. He had wiped himself frantically with the sheet before he had thrown on his sleeping robe and tied up the chaos of his hair as he ran out the door. Hapless Healer indeed. 

Fenris had felt the light caress of healing magic from the Clinic proper and could now hear him giving medicine and instructions to a worried woman. Fenris could hear others enter, having seen the door opened, even without the lanterns lit. No doubt sought help from the caring man they knew dwelled within. 

Fenris splashed the cold water from the wash bowl over his face. When he stood up again he felt cool rivlets run under his hair along his scalp, they were warm by the time they reached his neck. He soaked a torn scrap of cloth in the water and started to wipe down his neck and chest. The familiar motions were soothing as he struggled to make sense of his feelings. While this morning with Anders had been wanted, enjoyable and definitely begged repeating, it had also been confusing and alarming at times.

He had felt out of place in such a position, unsure of even what to do with his hands at first. Danarius had had clear expectations for this- he wanted to either sit back and be worshiped or on occasion to take out whatever frustrations the day had wrought on his favorite slave. That Fenris remembered feeling satisfied, no,  _ honored  _ with either case was galling. He had just been a tool to be used. A sword, an ass, a mouth, a phallus. 

In retrospect it seemed obvious that he should have thought to touch Anders gently, to not need to be led to such things, but any gentle touches Fenris had received had been more akin to how one might pet a dog. Just a means to train a pet. They had never been for Fenris, not really. 

Anders made it simple, a matter of options to try and with his easy smile managed to not make Fenris feel foolish in the process. Just to be concerned with the soft strands of golden hair while Anders took care of the pace of things was a relief. 

The heat of Anders' mouth along Fenris’s stomach had sparked unexpected desire. Fenris had never considered that that area could be so stimulating, perhaps in part because the pain of his markings was diminished, but also he had never had the opportunity or inclination to explore himself in that way. As he washed he touched the little tender bites Anders had left.

_ ‘You find pleasure in pain?’ _

_ ‘Just a little sometimes _ ’

The memory replayed and Fenris was surprised that he too seemed to take pleasure in some applications of pain.

When Anders had turned his attention to Fenris’s length it had been an unimaginably intense experience. Yet a single touch of Anders’ hand had made Fenris ready to flee or strike. So many memories and emotions had stirred in him: fear, arousal and the shame of both. It was astonishing the intimacy had not ended there, but Anders had seemed to once more know what to do. He had made Fenris feel- safer, as if there was nothing at all wrong with him for panicking over something that a normal person would welcome. He said that Fenris had done well - the praise had settled something in Fenris. 

Then Anders had continued with his attentions. It was unlike any other carnal experience Fenris had known. When he felt himself drawn to his peek there was still a part of him which panicked at the thought of making a mess. Before Danarius had him wear the ring, the one time he failed and finished  _ inside  _ he was punished harshly. Now, the greater part of him found this once forbidden act to be incredibly erotic, to release into the Mage’s eager mouth while his long, strong hands gripped tightly to Fenris backside. 

In the waves of euphoria, something unraveled in his mind. A brief flash- He saw his hands holding a sword and covered in blood, his  _ unmarked  _ hands. With the sudden vision came the knowledge that around him lay many he had killed. The memory hit quick and sharp but stay with him. Now he wondered- Had his hands always been stained with blood then? It was another fault to feel shame about but it was a familiar shame.

As the rush of orgasim ebbed Anders had moved his attention lower. Fenris was unprepared for the second crest of pleasure- and another vision. For just an instant he saw a face smiling at him, a blonde elf with tired eyes. His  _ mother _ , he could feel the truth of it, the joy of it. It was with him now, clearer than it had been before.

As he lay in the aftermath he was lost. Confused by the intense physical and emotional experience he felt insubstantial, as if he had phased and never fully returned. There was a pressure building in his chest, constricting his throat, and he did not know how to relieve it. When the Mage had held him it lifted the weight. He felt small in the warm embrace. He felt safe. Nestled to the human’s chest he inhaled the scent of the man, a scent which now included Fenris. Anders smelled perfect. 

When he felt the human’s arousal Fenris smiled. He had wanted to see the beautiful man to completion. When Anders had asked to kiss him instead of something more direct- it had thrown Fenris. 

The kisses had felt very different. It was not the quick pecks they had traded and it had not been like with Danarius- Fenris striving to please his master. The kisses had been something they did together. Gentle, but there was a sensuality he had never experienced before. It had been far better than he ever imagined a kiss could be. 

He wanted more, wanted to be close. It was strange to want something like this, and hard to articulate. The Mage, as usual, had no such trouble voicing his thoughts. He was correct though, Fenris very much  _ did  _ like to get him ‘nice and messy’. So he had. He took in the human’s sounds and scents while he felt the man came undone in his hand and it had been- wonderful.

Now, as he stood naked and alone in the chill of Darktown the intensity of these new experiences and desires was alarming. Yet he found he wanted more.

Fenris dried himself off. The din from the Clinic had dwindled. Only the voice of one woman remained, singing to herself as she gathered the wash from yesterday to bring up to ‘Fereldan Imports’. 

As he began to put on his cotton tights and leather leggings he could smell something cooking. His stomach made a noise of agreement. Just as he had secured the lacing of his pants the rickety door creaked open. The Mage came with two plates and two cups balanced precariously. He wore his coat open over his faded night robe and his hair had started falling out of its tie again. He was bedraggled but it was a surprisingly endearing look.

“Sorry about that. A Healer’s work is never done”, Anders said, “I made breakfast, eggs in a basket. I don’t usually indulge but I figured we could use the strength for whatever Hawke is getting us into later”. He wore a wide grin as he set the food on the desk. 

“That is a good idea. Thank you”, Fenris said. He felt a rush of nervousness and quickly reached for his tunic and pulled it over his head. He felt more secure covered even if it was only thin fabric and not his armor.

“Come and eat before it goes cold”, the Mage said and sat down on the edge of the bed. Fenris turned the chair to face the Mage and they broke their fast together. It was simple but good. Anders had even sweetened the tea just how Fenris preferred. 

“How’s the headache?” Anders asked. Fenris looked at the Healer from the corner of his eye.

“It is much improved. You have much skill with your hands”, Fenris responded. 

The Mage gave a chuckle. ”Just my hands?” he asked and wiggled his eyebrows in a preposterous way. Fenris felt heat rise to his face. 

The Mage’s eyes lit with mischief and he smiled broadly before popping the last bite of his meal into his mouth. Fenris continued eating silently while he watched the Mage sip his tea. 

“I forgot the balm for your shoulders last night. If you are still sore we should try it this morning and see if it helps. I want to show you some stretches that can help as well”, Anders said more seriously. He cradled his mug of tea between his hands.

“There is a slight soreness, as if I had been fighting more than I had yesterday”, Fenris answered as he ate the last bit of buttery bread.

“Then I will just have to use these skilled hands again,” Anders said, then added, “How is the other pain?”

“It is actually much the same, only just above the ankle. It is strange. I think it is dissipating more slowly than it has been”, Fenris considered

“Perhaps, staying close to me slows the degradation?”Anders brow wrinkled just above his nose as he unfocused his eyes in contemplation. His loose hair made a golden halo around his face but the larger locks which usually fell down to frame the right side of his face were sticking up more erratically and seemed stiff- ‘Ah’, thought Fenris.

“Mage”, Fenris said. Anders paused with his cup of tea just removed from his lips.

“You have seed making your hair stand on end,'' Fenris said.

The Mage’s eye went wide. He set the cup down and his hands flew to his hair. He swallowed the tea hard.

“Andraste’s fancy knickers! No wonder Nana Clara was giving me that look. I didn’t think her eyes were that sharp anymore. I hope her daughter didn’t notice,” the Healer exclaimed as he turned a brilliant shade of red. 

Fenris laughed.

“Oh stop you”, Anders chastised irritably as he stood from the bed and collected the dishes, “I’m going to go take care of these and then wash my hair out”, with a glance down at his rumbled bed he added, ”I don’t think my bed frame could hold up against me being tied to it. I’ll have to show you how to tie a double column tie when I get back. Make yourself comfortable.”

Before Fenris could think of a reply the Mage took his long legged steps to the door. He peaked out before vanishing.

***

Fenris sat in the circle of the Mage’s limbs. The balm on his neck and shoulders felt oddly cool and smelled of elfroot and cloves. The human’s warmth radiated through their clothing, Fenris’s rough tunic and Anders’ soft sleeping robe. Anders had his chin tucked over one of Fenris’s shoulders while he curled his arms around holding his silk ropes. The Mage’s breath tickled Fenris’s cheek as he spoke.

“You are sure you are comfortable with this?”, the Healer murmured near his ear.

“You said it was the best way to learn to do this without hurting you. We do it this way”, Fenris answered.

“Well, just let me know if you want me to undo it or you can just phase out”, Anders spoke quickly.

“I  _ know  _ Mage. Are you planning on actually showing me or just talking about it all?”, Fenris said snappishly. 

“Fine. Fine. Impatient aren't we?" Anders laughed, then his voiced changed. "The most important things to remember are to keep the ropes from twisting as you wrap and don’t make the loops around the wrists very tight” Anders instructed calmly as he began winding the folded length of rope around Fenris’s wrists. Anders spoke as if he were merely teaching Fenris how to slice turnips or sound out one of the labels from yesterday. Fenris realized the man’s soothing Healer’s voice and teaching voice were one and the same. Fenris liked this voice. 

“It seems simple enough”, replied Fenris. 

“Right. Now we are going to wrap down through here, around, and back. You see how the lines change direction? Now we tuck here and pull though that loop so you can hold this end or tie it to something, Anders spoke as his hands moved deftly, “Look here, you should be able to get 1 or two, well for you two, fingers between the wrist and the rope. You have to be careful here, so many vessels and nerves”. The Healer’s long fingers slide along the sensitive skin of Fenris’s inner wrists.

“I see”, Fenris said evenly, though the small touch made him feel overheated. He strove to cover any reaction with calm blankness. 

“Go ahead and test it,” Anders said cheerfully, letting his arms fall to the side. Fenris tried to pull and slide his arms apart but the rope held him securely. The bindings wound a third of his forearms. The pressure of the smooth rope was actually strangely calming. When he finished with testing the strength of the binding he found himself curiously relaxed with the gentle pressure of the binding. He wanted to just back into Anders' warmth and enjoy it.

“It’s comfortable, right? No pinching or painful constriction when you move. I'm good if I do say so myself,” Anders asked with pride in his voice. 

“It is not painful”, Fenris said distractedly. He had never been bound like this before, had not been in restraints at all since the ritual which gave him his markings. Those had not been rope but metal manticles which held him splayed. Danarius did not use such crude, physical methods to chain his favorite slave, beyond fanciful decorations. No, his former Master preferred magic and manipulation. It had been painful learning the truth of it with the Fog Warriors, he had fought with himself. Even after years on the run, Fenris felt the pull of those insidious bindings. Perhaps when he finally saw the Magister dead he would be free of them. 

He looked down at his wrists. Was this strange calm he felt now part of that twisted pull to return to subjugation? It was a wretched thought. Fear and self loathing welled up from within. ‘ _ No _ ’, he shouted in his head until defiance was the only feeling he had left. With growl and a flash of blue light the ropes fell onto his lap in a tangled pile.

“Fenris? Are you-”, the Mage began but was interrupted, for when he laid his hands over Fenris’s arms Fenris reacted by grabbing one of those pale hands and spun around to push the Mage flat on his back with his arms pinned. Brown eyes lit blue. Little cracks of that eerie light erupted in fine lines on his pale face. Then it winked out leaving wide, honey brown eyes. His face broke into a half crazed grin.

“I suppose you are impatient to try it yourself. You’ll have to bring my arms together though”, Anders said, smile too wide. He did not try to push Fenris away but laid as relaxed as if Fenris hadn’t just acted like a spooked beast. “Go ahead then”.

Fenris sat back. His anger left as quickly as it came on but he could not define the restless amalgam left in its place. His heart hammered like the Foundry.

“Anders I-”, he began.

“It’s alright Fenris”, the Healer said softly, his smile becoming reassuring,”try not to surprise me like that though. Justice was...concerned”. Anders moved his now freed hands together to rest on his stomach. Fenris let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

”Now then, get the rope. I want to see how good a student you are,” Anders said with returned cheer.

Fenris tried to replicate what he had seen the Mage do, slowly binding the man’s wrists. Having something new to focus on distracted Fenris from his shameful loss of control.

“Nicely done”, the blonde beamed up at him as he tested his bindings. The white of the rope was not as striking as it had been against Fenris’s darker skin but the sight of the Mage bound created a tension in Fenris's chest.

Unaware of the inner turmoil Fenris struggled with, Anders raised his hands over his head. Fenris, still holding the end of the rope, allowed himself to be pulled until he was once again over the human.

“Shall we get started then?” Anders said with a wink.

Anders ended up turning onto his stomach, arms pulled over his head to better immobilize him. Control. Fenris needed control to keep them both safe. Trust was precious, dangerous, but precious. He would no misuse the Mage's trust. Every touch had to be planned, every phasing exact. Fenris felt somewhat detached from his sense of receding pain, the beautiful man who put such trust in him, and even his own returned arousal. He remained intensely focused while Anders came undone beneath him. 

So lost were they both that neither of them heard the creek of one of the rusty Clinic doors.

***

Hawke was tired. Happy, but oh Maker was he tired. 

Leandra woken every few hours for milk. Anders had said she would as she was still becoming used to her new diet, but Hawke had not anticipated how hard that would be. How hard it would be to even stop watching her little form as she slept, almost afraid she would not be there if he looked away. At least in keeping watch out on the city he was able to sleep soundly for some of the night. Mother had made it look so easy, and with  _ twins _ . 

So with a strong cup of tea and a slice of ham tucked into a bread roll, he had turned the babe over to Bohdam and made his way across Hightown to Fenris’s Mansion. Before they headed out to gather the others to help that Mage boy, he intended to get an explanation for exactly what he had been covering for last night with the business of the earring. Anders had said that the two of them had been on better terms since that incident last week, which pleased Hawke to no end, but now he found himself wondering just how good they were getting on and if he should be worried. Though both of his friends put on a strong show, they were both very vulnerable underneath. 

The mansion had been empty. With no little irritation Hawke made his way to Darktown to get Anders. Perhaps he would be able to clear things up further before they went prancing off into the Fade.

The Clinic was closed, odd at this hour, but there were no hopeful unfortunates lined up so perhaps Anders had just recently closed. Hawke tried the door but it was locked, not that that had ever stopped Hawke. With nimble fingers he picked the lock and entered. A few steps into the Clinic Hawke was startled by a sound.

“Ahhh!”, A cry from the back of the clinic sent a surge alertness through the Rogue. Anders! Fearing the Templars, Hawke moved swiftly and silently, daggers drawn.

“I’m going to- oh! Please!”Anders' voice sounded from behind the door to his sleeping quarters. He very much did not sound in pain. Hawke stopped so quickly he almost bounced into a pillar. He stood there a moment, feeling his face heat dangerously fast as his friend's wanton voice continued. It was then that he noticed a familiar set of armor set out neatly on one of the work tables. 

“Fenris, I want it please!”, Anders called out.

‘No. No way. I’m not dealing with this first thing in the morning. Horrors of the fade will be enough for today thanks. Maybe Tomwise has some new poisons. He was one of the better members of Athenril’s crew’, Hawke thought to himself as he stealthily crept back out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and encouraging me!!!! ^____^
> 
> Fenris is so confused right now
> 
> back into plot heavy for a while with group dynamics and some Hawke/Merrill dynamics
> 
> Comments are delightful to me ^__^


	31. What Else am I Missing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV from both of the Mages in the group

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovlies, this will be my first time writing Merrill's POV so I hope I get her right.

Chapter 31: What Else am I Missing?

“Are you sure you are feeling well? You look flushed. Perhaps you caught a cold on your trip. Let me just take a quick look at you”, Anders said in concern. He reached out to test Hawke’s forehead with the back of his hand but the rogue ducked out of the way easily.

“I’m fine Anders, just sleepy from last night. You weren't kidding about Leandra. Being a single father will be tougher than I thought, but I’ll adjust”, Hawke grinned.

“Right. A single father who lives in Hightown and has two servants to assist”, Anders snarked back. He crossed his arms in irritation at Hawke’s refusal of examination.

“Well it’s not like either of them ever took care of a baby before”, Hawke grumbled, lips thinning as he pursed them together in a pout. It made Anders’ mood softened.

“You’re already leaps and bounds better than most fathers because you actually want to be good at it”, Anders said and was rewarded by Hawke’s broad smile and an arm over his shoulder.

"Good thing I have my favorite Healer giving be pointers", Hawke said jovially.

"Anytime Hawke", Anders said with a smile. 

“I am ready now”, Fenris said as he stepped out from the back room of the clinic. His face was impassive as he spoke. The elf had been somewhat distant since his outburst with the bindings but had been incredibly careful during the session afterwards. Anders had felt cared for by those strong hands that touched him gently. Now Anders felt a happy flip in his stomach when he saw Fenris. He tried to hold onto that feeling a little longer and not silently fret about how it was doomed or worry about what the stoic warrior was thinking.

“Good, good. Let’s get going then. The sooner we get there the sooner we finish and I can get back to Leandra, and maybe a nap if I’m lucky”, Hawke smiled as he led them out the door.

As they walked Hawke regaled them with how his first night as a father went. Somehow Hawke could make soiled changing cloths and nightly feedings seem as dramatic as a night in the Deep Roads. Between his worry over Fenris and his amusement with Hawke, as Anders exited the lift he stumbled into somebody. 

“Pardon me!” Anders said. When he looked he met red rimmed eyes in a pale face framed with unkempt hair and stubble. It was a familiar face but Anders could not place it. 

“Easy friend”, the man said, then turned to Hawke, eye lighting in recognition. “Serrah Hawke, still moving up in the world I hear. Don’t suppose you had a spare coin for old Samson today?”

“Samson! Funny we should run into you”, Hawke said.

“Rather literally it seems”, Samson replied with glace to Anders. His eyes were weary.

“Well anyways, you remember that boy we were looking for when we first met? Seems we are helping him out again. He’s been a good young ma- man by all accounts though,” Hawke said with a quick cover from saying too much in the open air of Lowtown. 

That was why the man was familiar. He was...a former Templar. One who was sympathetic to Mages and even helped them escape the City of Chains...for a price. It felt like something he should have remembered more clearly and the fact that he did not was vexing.

“Ah. he seemed a good lad. I hope it isn’t too tight a spot he’s in this time. Good that there’s a fellow such as yourself to look after the less fortunate”, Samson responded.

“Yes, well, we only have each other in this dog eat dog lord world” Hawke said with a laugh and pressed a bit of coin to Samson’s hand.

“Bless you Serrah. You’re the only Hightowner I know what gives a shit about anyone else”, Samson said with a sad smile.

“Take care Samson”, Hawke said with a little nod and led them on through the bustling morning Lowtown Market towards the Alienage.

***

On the Wounded Coast the beauty of the stars and the sunrise had been strikingly vivid, as if when more fully merged with Justice he was unable to fully appreciate or even notice the beauty in the world or the subtleties of the people. It seemed the same was true for some of the ugliness of the world.

Anders had been in the Alienage many times, but not since he and Justice had found themselves in a more divided state due to Fenris’s touch. Despite his seven escapes he had never ventured into an Alienage before they had come to Kirkwall. It was supposed to be one of the better Alienages in Thedas. It was miserable. The best thing he could say about it was there was no fetid clouds of chokedamp in the streets. 

The shock of it made him recall a conversation with the Warden Commander. He had been going off about the Chantry, a bit too much of the personal bleeding out around the edges of his jokes at the time. 

She had said ‘it sounds familiar’ and he had made light of it, had said ‘at least they don’t keep you locked up’ (1). The look she had given him, so cold and disappointed, he hadn’t understood why she had looked at him like that. He did now, and he felt shame. It felt like each elf they passed could sense it on him, they gave him strange looks.

His disquiet over these thoughts grew such that he could feel Justice turning from his song with all the ease of a mountain moving.

“ _ It was necessary. There is too much injustice in this world. We must focus or we shall surely go mad _ ,”Justice thought, the voice in their head rolled soft as distant thunder. 

“ _ Samson, elves _ ... _ What else? What else have I missed _ ?” Anders' thoughts raced, then thinking of the memories bound within him “ _ What else am I missing _ ?” He followed Hawke as if in a trance.

“ _ Was ich nicht weiß, macht mich nicht heiß(2) _ ”, Justices voiced rolled through him. The words from his childhood burned in his mind. It felt as if something horrible waited behind them and he felt himself shake. Anders stumbled. A gauntleted hand caught him. Fenris.

“ _ It was what you said before I touched your mind for the first time _ ”, Justice answered.

“ _ We, you, I- _ ”, Anders thought.

“ _ Yes. All three. It is strange my friend, but it has kept us safe, sane _ ”, Justice answered.

“Are you well?”, the deep voice of Fenris questioned the world outside of Anders' head.

“We-, I am fine. Just a bit dizzy for a moment”, Anders laughed it off even as his heart raced. The elf did not seem convinced and he did not release Anders arm as they walked beneath the great tree in the center of the Alienage. It cast sparse shade, the dappled shadows washed over them as they walked. Hawke carefully avoided looking at them.

Before he knew it they were in front of Merrill’s house. Hawke quickly went to rap on the door. Oh, right. They were taking Merrill, who had just had a colossal fight with Hawke. Fun. Anders attempted to steel himself.

The door opened. Merrill’s normally cheery face was sharp with anger.

“Oh, it’s you. What do you want Hawke?”, the elf said coldly.

“I know you are angry with me but will you please help with Feynriel? I think it would be safer to have Mages along for this”, Hawke spoke slowly with a purposefully even tone. Merrill pursed her lips into non-existence.

“Oh, very well”, she said in exasperation.

“Thank you Merrill”, Hawke said with a nod of acknowledgement. There was a moment they all stood in silence. A sea breeze rustled the leaves in the great tree and blew wisps of hair to tickle Anders' cheeks and nose.

Merrill’s bitter look morphed into one of confusion, her eyes first darted to Anders, then to where Fenris was touching him. Her eyes narrowed. 

“Masal din'an(3)!” Merrill hissed at Fenris and grabbed hold of Anders to pull him across her dark threshold.

“You two will wait here”, she said with a cold authority to her voice that shocked Anders. Before they could answer she slammed the door. Turning back towards Anders, Merrill’s fierceness turned to sadness. The hand on his arm which had been gripping painfully with fingertips turned gentle as she led him deeper into her gloomy home. From being out in the bright daylight Anders felt like he was delving into the Dark Roads for all he could see. She had brought him to the hearth which helped. The main room had always reminded him of the Tower’s library. It was as if the walls were as much supported by the prolific stacks of books and bookshelves as the old wood of the building itself. 

“Oh, lethallin, ir abelas (4). I am so sorry. I did not think he-”, Merrill said with her ear drooping, then with some harshness returned continued, “We can go get Isabela and give him a lesson he will not soon forget. She mentioned cutting his testicles off. Is that the typical human punishment for such things? It seems reasonable if a bit lenient.” 

However lost in thought Anders had been earlier, trying to process exactly what the fast talking elf was going on about snapped him back to the present. With dawning horror he realized what she meant.

“Wait. No no no no no. It wasn’t like that”, Anders said holding up a placating hand. Merrill tilted her head as if considering a tricky magic problem, or trying to remember her way home.

“So then, you had sex with Fenris”, she said matter of factly. 

“How do you even- do you smell it again?” Anders asked incredulously and his eyes widened as the elf grave a nod. “I rinsed off! Well, I was in a bit of a rush, but still! Oh Maker, that’s why the elves on the way here were looking at me funny!” Anders said in exasperation. Merrill  _ giggled  _ at him.

“Apologies after what happened before and you looked so disturbed at the door... though I suppose that could be this mess Hawke is involving us in today. It seems everything is fine if  _ he  _ is the one taking risks”, her voice became sharp a moment before returning focus to Anders, “It was definitely something you wanted? It was as if you were drunk that night at cards after he-” Merrill asked.

“I will not go into specifics, but yes, it was wanted”, Anders interrupted.

“Oh that’s nice then. I’m happy for you both. Creators know you could both do with some happiness”, Merrill said with a cheerful smile that made her eyes crinkle and twinkle in the light of the hearth. They were a brighter green than Fenris’s eyes, leafy, but with dark circles beneath them. Merrill cared, whatever prideful folly she got herself into, she was ready to defend him. So few people in his life ever had. Anders recalled the disdain he had showered on her before and felt conflicted. It was hard to believe that she was a blood Mage, but then Anders thought with a cold feeling in his stomach, he had once been one as well it seemed. 

‘ _ Never with the aid of a demon nor a drop of blood not your own _ ’, Justice thought resolutely. Justice was still more distinctly Justice, but very much more alert than he had ever been so soon after a session with Fenris, roused by Anders’ distress. Both the Spirit’s thoughts and that he could still be there when Anders needed him brought him comfort.

‘ _ Her potential for injustice is great _ ’, Justice grumbled.

‘She is reckless. I was once just as reckless, perhaps moreso’, Anders thought, recalling how as a boy he had once accidentally started to drain life force over a stupid prank on the Templars ans ended up passed out for two days. Wynne had not been amused(5). 

Consorting with demons was still dangerous and vile, but Merrill only ever spilled her own blood. Perhaps she could be convinced of her folly before she was made to pay for it.

“I suppose we should get this over with then” she said, interrupting Anders' thought. She was looking into the flames, her smile gone. She grabbed her staff and walked to the door. Anders followed.

***

Merrill had slept fitfully. Several times she rose and sat on the floor in the dim light of a candle to peer into the clouded mirror. It felt like its secrets were hidden just under the surface, only just out of her reach. 

‘ _ What else am I missing _ ?’, she thought reproachfully.

After each vigil she would lay in her small, rumbled bed and try to forget the sting of betrayal. The morning haziness before she was fully awake was the only time she was successful in this but it all came crashing back. Heart heavy with anger, hurt and frustration, she went to her books to try to distract herself. 

She was staring unfocused at the same page of a very dusty tome when a knock at the door started her. Hawke. Oh, she was tempted to slam the door in his face. She didn’t, curious of what he might say and hopeful that he might change his mind. No, it was about that Mage boy. While she did not want to be near the Rogue now she also could not bear the thought of him meeting his end in the Beyond. Not when with her experience with the spirits there they would surely have a better chance of success. So she had agreed.

A briny breeze swept in and the scent of male sex caused her nose to twitch. The scent of both human and elf. It was then that she actually noticed Hawke’s companions. Anders looked haunted and Fenris looming. Cold, clean anger gilded her to take Anders aside.

It was both a relief and an amusement to listen as the human became flustered and corrected her misjudgement. 

‘He’s seemed more lively lately, perhaps the effects of love?’ she mused. The thought quickly turned to sadness as she remembered Hawke was still outside her door. 

‘Best get this over with’, she thought, not wanting to be in the same room with Hawke and the Keeper a moment more than she needed to be. 

Arianni’s home was not far, though space in the Alienage was so tight nobody was really far from anyone else. They only had to walk across under the Vhenadahl. Merrill walked ahead of the others as she did not wish to look at Hawke more than needed, afraid of what she might say. When they arrived the worried mother had explained a bit of what was to happen and bade them wait for Keeper Marethari.

Merrill’s bitterness overflowed, “The Keeper would delve into the ancient magics to protect this half breed? She wouldn’t do so for me”.

“Halfbreed? Is that why you…” Hawke sounded pained and despite everything when she met his eyes the sadness there made her want to cup his shaggy face in her hands, but his eyes grew hard and her hands stayed frozen at her sides. “Your life is not on the line Merrill. Feynriel’s is. If we had children would you have them left for dead because they would be  _ halfbreeds _ ?” 

“She'va dhal!(6) That’s not what I meant. Hawke I…”, Merrill started.

“Just go home Merrill. I’ll run and get Isabela. She said she’d be up for this just in case”, Hawke said as he stormed away towards the passage to the rest of Lowtown. 

“Dread wolf take me, that isn’t what I meant. Why do I always manage to say just the wrong thing”, Merrill said to the dabbled flagstones. How was it possible to be so angry with him and still love him so much?

She stiffened when a hand rested on her shoulder. Anders or Fenris, neither particularly cared for her. She guarded herself for whatever came next.

“Perhaps it is better you go home and rest. We both know how strenuous the Fade can be and you look like you haven’t slept all night”, Anders' voice sounded earnest.

“He looks just as tired”, Merrill replied, “We know how trying it is, neither of them do”, she said with a nod towards Fenris.

“He was up with the baby last night, but you know how long that stubborn man can go without sleep. Don’t worry. I’ve been through a harrowing and been taken bodily into the Fade before. I can help them”, Anders said.

“What baby?” Merrill asked, turning to face Anders. His small human eyes widened.

“Oh. Um, I guess you didn’t hear,” Anders said as he smoothed back loose strands of hair nervously, “That baby you all rescued from the Lowtown Massacre? Hawke’s adopted her.”

“Oh. Well… that’s.. that’s wonderful. He has always wanted little ones”, Merrill said, unsure of why the news made her breath catch. She looked away again. “I better go. Take care of him please.”

“I will”, Anders said immediately.

“As will I, though at no one’s behest. He is my friend”, Fenris said without looking over to them from where he lent against the building.

“Thank you. Dareth shiral(7)”, she said and walked home. She felt a numb exhaustion from all the conflicting emotions. Why were feelings so difficult?

***

Footnotes:

  1. So my Warden in was a city elf and I guess my in fic Warden is an elf now. In Awakenings there is a lyrium bucket at Kal'Hirol you can have a conversation with Anders. He criticizes the Chantry and I got a special elf option to compare how elves and mages are treated. Does anyone else remember that? He was dismissive about how elves are treated which annoyed me. Now that I think about it, it makes sense because he was so sheltered from how elves in most of Thedas were treated. He grew up in farmland where elves were not allowed to live. When he was in the Tower there were elves, but they were fellow Mages living side by side with human mages. Certainly there would still be prejudice but the proximity and the sheltered environment was unique in Thedas. He was unaware of how much privilege he had as a human.
  2. Was ich nicht weiß, macht mich nicht heiß 

What I don't know, won't hurt me. Literally: What I don't know won't burn me. 

(Is this appropriate my lovely German readers/speakers?)

  3. An unknown Elven threat
  4. So according to the lore reckless Mages who burn through there mana can accidentally burn through their life force. Sounds like Anders' martyr ability to me, which is also very much like blood magic isn't it?
  5. Elven- [endearment for an acquaintance]. I am sorry.
  6. Elven exclamation, meaning unknown
  7. farewell; literally "Safe journey."



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer FINALLY let me finish DAI including trespasser and I'm in that sad funk were I finished a series I love and wish there was more. 
> 
> I hope you liked the angst. I touched on some of my fan theories here and hope you find them interesting. The next bit is going to be plot/theory heavy with angst.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments make me ^___^ and write more <3


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